Finding Myself, One Piece at a Time
by Cara245
Summary: Denial was usually her friend, but an innocent question from her niece gives Stephanie Plum an unwelcome, but necessary dose of reality. Rated T for Language. Babe HEA, eventually. **Warning - vague spoilers through 'Top Secret Twenty one'.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.**

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><p>Chapter 1: Denial Land, where are you, my old friend?<p>

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><p>My 34th birthday was pretty much like the last five or so birthdays, except for one thing: I got hit upside the head with a big old reality stick. My niece, Mary Alice, didn't mean to send my precariously constructed world tumbling down around my ears, but in hindsight, I'm glad she did.<p>

Like I said, it started out like any other day. According to weather dot com, the sun rose at 7:05 AM on Sunday, October 12, and it promised to be a cool, crisp fall day. I'll just trust them on that, because I woke just shy of noon and didn't bother sticking my head out of the window to check the temperature. Instead, I sat up in bed and grabbed my phone.

I had a few birthday texts, and my Facebook wall boasted birthday wishes from a few dozen high school and college classmates that I'd lost touch with and about twenty invitations to play Candy Crush Saga. I ignored the game requests and hit the like button on the wall posts and called it done. Next, I told my co-workers, Connie and Lula, that I'd see them at the bonds office the next day. They'd wanted to take me out clubbing the night before, but I'd taken a rain check instead, since I'd been too pooped from chasing Homer Selznik around town all afternoon. Don't laugh – he's pretty damn spry for an old guy.

My best friend from high school, Mary Lou, wanted to take me out to lunch for my b-day. It'd been a while, so I texted her back and set something up for the next day while her kids were in school. I deleted the rest of the texts and voicemails, since they were most likely from people who thought I was a horrible person for stunning an eighty year old in front of the Tasty Pastry. I wasn't going to lose sleep over it, since the 'sweet' old man was wanted for bashing in the head of one of his poker buddies. Besides, it wasn't like he had a pacemaker or anything.

With the important correspondence taken care of, I stumbled out to my kitchen for some much needed caffeine. I was bummed to discover that I was out of coffee grounds, but at some point that morning, the coffee fairy had visited me. I blinked a couple of times and reached out to touch the Starbucks cup. Yep, there was a still-hot venti caramel macchiato sitting on my counter next to a single Boston crème donut - and a sleek black stun gun. I couldn't help but grin as I took my first sip of sweet caffeinated goodness; a lot of people could break into my apartment, but there was only one who'd consider a stun gun to be an appropriate birthday gift. At least I assumed he'd meant it to be a present, since it had a bow on it.

I took a big bite of the pastry and moaned as the perfect blend of fat and sugar hit my taste buds. Since my hamster, Rex, decided to come out his soup can to investigate at that moment, I dropped a bit of the Boston crème into his aquarium. "Compliments of Uncle Ranger," I told him. Rex twitched his whiskers and tucked the donut crumb into his cheek pouch before diving back into his home. Because I'm a good hamster mommy, I shook some hamster nuggets into his bowl before finishing my own breakfast.

Once Rex and I had both been fed, I tapped out a quick text to my benefactor: _Thanks for breakfast and the taser – so much more appropriate than diamonds. _A couple of minutes later my phone buzzed as his reply came in: _Babe._

I chuckled as I made my way to the bathroom. I would've been disappointed if he'd texted anything else. After my shower, I spent the afternoon dozing on the couch while Ghostbusters played in the background; it was a good day. Around 5 PM, I made my first mistake – I changed into a nice blouse and my good jeans and drove over to my parents' house for dinner.

We have a long-standing tradition in my family – the birthday girl or boy gets their favorite meal and everyone is extra nice to them. In my case, that means that my mother refrains from telling me that I'm wasting the best years of my life by working as a bounty hunter and that my ovaries are about to shrivel up from lack of use. So, I went to my parents' expecting nothing more than my Mom's lasagna and pineapple upside down cake served without a side of maternal guilt; what I actually got was a big dose of reality.

My parents live in the Chambersburg section of Trenton, fondly known as the Burg. The houses are narrow, the yards are tiny and dinner is always on the table by 6 PM. I pulled up behind my sister's minivan at around 5:30, which was my second mistake. Nothing good has ever come of me showing up to dinner early.

My mom and grandma met me at the front door, as usual. "Thank God, you're early, for once," my mom exclaimed, her eyes wild.

"Are you OK?" I asked, worriedly. She had a huge tomato sauce stain on her usually pristine apron, and her hair was in disarray. One of my cars usually had to explode before she was this upset.

"I need you to go to the store." She shot a patented Burg death glare at my grandma. "Someone used up all of the ice cream without telling me."

Grandma shrugged. "You were out of whipped cream and I had a date." She grinned at me. "It sure was cold, but Elmer Lubowski said it was the hottest sex he'd ever had."

My mom and I both shuddered as we tried to suppress the mental images brought on by Grandma's words. I took a quick peek into the living room. My sister's youngest was screaming at the top of her lungs, my brother-in-law Albert was trying to sponge baby spit-up off of his shirt, and my Dad was staring fixedly at the television, ignoring them both.

"Sure, no problem." I would've milked a cow and made ice cream from scratch if it got me out of that madhouse. My second oldest niece, Mary Alice, was galloping around the front yard, so I asked her if she wanted to go with me.

She paused in mid-prance. "Do I get to pick the flavor? Golden Palominos can't eat just any kind of ice cream, you know."

"Youbetcha," I told her, as I did my best not to laugh. Boy, did I ever love that kid; MA wanted to be a horse more than anything. I could relate, since I'd wanted to be a superhero or an intergalactic princess at her age. Of course, MA was way smarter than I'd been because she'd never wanted to be a _flying _horse – I can tell you from experience that it's a long drop from the roof of my parents' garage.

MA was uncharacteristically quiet on the way to the Shop n' Bag, but I bided my time until we'd paid for the large tub of Vanilla Bean and the pints of Ben and Jerry's. I'd gotten Cherry Garcia and MA had wanted New York Super Fudge Chunk. Apparently horses needed extra chocolate.

"Hey, you're awfully quiet over there," I told her as we stowed the bags in the back seat. "Anything you want to talk about?"

MA bit her lip, nervously. "I don't know."

I patted her arm as we buckled ourselves into my latest POS, a mostly blue 2006 Ford Escape that I had high hopes for. The interior was still in good shape and it had less than 100,000 miles on the odometer. "Well, I'm here if you need to talk."

MA's brow was scrunched in thought. "I heard something that I didn't understand." She turned toward me as I put the car in gear. "Aunt Steph, what's a hot mess?"

I hid a grin. "It depends on the context, could you fill me in?" I asked, figuring she'd overheard it at the park or something. I glanced over at her as I pulled out of the parking lot. She was chewing on her lip again.

"Well," she said, hesitantly. "Mom was on the phone with Grandma, yesterday." She looked over at me with innocent eyes as we pulled to a stop at a light. "Then she laughed and she said, 'Well, Stephie's always been a hot mess, and she'll never learn.'"

I suddenly felt as if all the air had been forced from my lungs and a dull ache settled in the pit of my stomach. I was just glad that we weren't moving at that moment. According to the Urban Dictionary, hot mess is 'a derogatory term describing a situation, behavior, appearance, etc. that is disastrously bad. Think "faux pas" but times ten. Possible origin is literal (think, steaming dogpile).' Sure, I was used to being gossiped about and God knows that I'd gotten into my share of scrapes over the last few years. But that my own mother and sister thought of me like that….

"Aunt Steph?" MA tugged on my sleeve, bringing me back to the present. The light had changed and the driver behind me was leaning on their horn, which reminded me that I was supposed to be driving. I took a deep breath and pulled on my big girl panties. I had a nine year old in the car with me, and maybe I was a hot mess, but I was going to get us back to my parents' safely.

I was pulling up behind Valerie's minivan again when I realized I'd never answered Mary Alice's question. I turned to her as I cut the engine. "I think a hot mess is someone who hasn't quite figured out what they want to be when they grow up," I finally told her.

Mary Alice's brow instantly cleared. "Is that all?" She leaned over and hugged me. "I still think you're the coolest Aunt, ever."

R&S~R&S~R&S

I made it through dinner, somehow, even though the pineapple upside down cake tasted like cardboard in my mouth. If I didn't contribute much to the dinner conversation, no one really noticed since Grandma was regaling us with a slightly edited account of her date, and Albert kept dropping lasagna on himself. Between that and Valerie's two youngest taking turns crying, all I had to do was follow my dad's example and keep my head down while shoveling in the food.

I pleaded tiredness and skipped out just after dessert was served. Mom must've noticed that I'd barely touched my food, because she sent me home with the rest of the cake and an extra-big helping of lasagna. Helen Plum might disapprove of my life, but she'd never let me go hungry.

When I got home, I tossed the leftovers into the fridge and flopped down on my bed in my thinking position. I knew I wasn't the best bond enforcement agent out there, but was I really a hot mess? I wanted to just roll over and go to sleep, but I forced myself to think logically. I'd hauled in hundreds of bail jumpers over the last few years. A lot of them had been shop-lifters and drunk and disorderlies, but I'd gotten a whole bunch of really bad guys off the street, too. Murderers, rapists, and recently, I'd even helped Ranger capture an international terrorist. Sure, the terrorist had ended up falling off of a parking garage roof accidentally-on-purpose, but the important thing is no innocent people were poisoned.

So, I'd done some good over the years. Of course, I'd lost countless cars, been stalked and kidnapped more than I'd like, and my apartment had been firebombed more than once. And though I tried to forget, just about everyone in my life had been hurt at some point by one of my skips. Val had been kidnapped, which probably explained her why she thought I was a hot mess. My stomach roiled as I listed the names in my head. Ranger, Joe, Lula, and a whole string of Ranger's employees had been shot, kidnapped, or otherwise harmed while helping me with my job.

I took a deep breath to calm my stomach and thought about my private life instead. Surely that would be more pleasant. It wasn't. To put it baldly, I was in my mid-thirties and all I had to show for it was a hamster and an apartment full of second and third-hand furniture. Don't get me wrong, Rex is the greatest pet ever, and I didn't really mind the lack of worldly goods – my divorce from Dickie Orr had taught me not to get too attached to things. But the fact was, I was sort of alone, and it sucked.

That's right, I had a whole town full of friends and acquaintances, a family that loved me, and I was pretty sure that some of them even liked me. But the facts were, despite having deep feelings for two men, I didn't really have anyone to share my life with. And I much as I tried to deny it, I wanted that.

My sort of boyfriend, Joe Morelli, and I had been on and off so much over the years that I practically needed a spreadsheet to track the status of our relationship. I thought we were in an on-phase, but we'd argued shortly before he'd left town on a case a couple of weeks ago, so I wasn't entirely sure.

The other man, Ricardo Carlos "Ranger" Mañoso has never been my boyfriend, but he's been my friend, hero, mentor and even sometimes lover. He's ex-Army Special Forces, and even though he's crazy busy running his security business, RangeMan, he's somehow never failed to swoop in and save me when I needed it. He's also the most beautiful man I've ever met, and he's magic in bed. Of course, he's told me time and time again that his life doesn't lend itself to relationships and that his love comes with a condom and not a ring. I guess that's understandable, since no one ever gets to marry Batman.

I groaned as I turned over on my side, punching my pillow repeatedly in frustration. I hated to admit it, but yes, my life was a bit of a train wreck. My sister was right. I, Stephanie Plum, am a hot mess. The million dollar question was, did I purchase a one-way ticket back to Denial Land, or did I do something about it?

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><p>AN: I was toying with writing another AU, but the idea that birthdays are a time for reflection got into my head and wouldn't let go. I have to confess that I had originally thought that this would be a StephMM pairing, but Ranger stepped in and ordered me to rethink my position.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.**

AN: Thanks to Angela Mueller – your comment on chapter 1 inspired Mary Lou's comment about Valerie.

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><p>Chapter 2<p>

What would you do for love?

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><p><em>Previously:<em>

_I groaned as I turned over on my side, punching my pillow repeatedly in frustration. I hated to admit it, but yes, my life was a bit of a train wreck. My sister was right. I, Stephanie Plum, am a hot mess. The million dollar question was, did I purchase a one-way ticket back to Denial Land, or did I do something about it?_

After my epiphany, I'd like to say that I slept like a baby, but I'd be lying. I finally dropped off to sleep sometime around dawn, only to be awakened by my alarm at the ungodly hour of 10 AM. A quick shower and a stop at the Tasty Pastry, and I was pushing open the door of the Bonds office a little after eleven.

Lula was the first to notice me. "White girl! I thought you was my friend." She grabbed the donut box from me. "Hunh. We wanted to take you out for your birthday, but you went out and got wild without us?"

I grabbed a Boston crème from the box and propped myself up on the corner of Connie's desk. "What? I was home and in bed by eight!" Sure, I hadn't slept much, but still….

"No one looks like that goin' to bed early. Unless…" She fanned herself with the purple feather boa that she'd paired with a pink sequined mini-dress. "Batman stopped by and gave you some birthday nookie, didn't he?"

I grabbed Connie's compact off the desk and did a quick check in the tiny mirror. I was in my usual work uniform - stretchy T-shirt, jeans and CAT boots. Since I'd been in a hurry, I'd gathered my hair up into a sloppy ponytail, skipped the makeup and called it good. Hmm…. Maybe I did look a little rough.

"I haven't seen Ranger in a week." According to his right-hand man, Tank, he'd been at his Miami office. But I figured he'd been back in town since at least yesterday, judging by the presents he'd left me.

Connie stopped filing her nails and looked me over. "Well, my sources still have Morelli out of town, so it's a fair question."

I snorted. The Burg grapevine put the CIA and the NSA to shame. "Nope, sorry, no birthday nookie here." In fact, I was having trouble remembering my last social orgasm. Morelli and I had both been pretty busy lately.

Lula grabbed both of the jelly donuts I'd gotten her. "Well, you didn't have that look about you, but a girl could hope."

"Ranger and I are just friends!" Unfortunately. I huffed out a breath when Connie and Lula both shot me a skeptical look. I knew that look, and it called for a retreat. "I just have a lot on my mind," I offered, which was exactly the wrong thing to say. I grabbed a donut for the road and began to back away before they could start the interrogation. "Got any new files for me?"

Connie put down the bottle of nail polish she'd been about to open and handed me a file. "Just Jimmy Palowski, again. Same charges as before."

I groaned, but took the file. "Great. Maybe I won't have to see his junk this time." But I was never that lucky. Jimmy had a habit of watering his neighbor's flowers without a watering can when he was drunk.

I made it out to my car without any further incident, and as I pulled away from the curb, a sleek black Porsche pulled up in front of the Bonds office. Most of me was glad I'd just missed Ranger's visit, and I could ignore the parts of me that wanted to turn the car back around.

R&S~R&S~R&S

I made it to Pino's with a few minutes to spare, but Mary Lou was already waiting for me. "Hey!" She pushed the pitcher of Coke and a glass toward me as I slid into the other side of the booth. "Long time, no see. I ordered the usual."

I took long, grateful sip of my soda. "Remind me again why we don't do this more often?" There was something comforting about knowing that in about five minutes, two meatball subs and a basket of fries would be plunked down on our table – just like every other time ML and I had shared a booth at Pino's.

She shrugged. "Life happens."

She was right, but I had to admit that it was mostly my crazy life that had kept us from getting together much these last few years. Getting kidnapped or covered in garbage on a regular basis can keep a girl busy. We spent the next few minutes playing catch up – I admired the pictures of her oldest in his peewee football uniform and she laughed with me as I told her about one of my latest captures. I'd been in rare form that day and Ziggy Gillepsie had ended up in the dumpster instead of me.

I'd was just about to bite into my sub when Mary Lou stopped me. "I didn't want to say anything, but you don't look like yourself. You OK?"

I rolled my eyes. "Geez, skip the mascara one time and everyone's a critic." When ML just looked at me, I put the sub down. "I didn't sleep too well last night."

Mary Lou's eyebrows flew upward. "You never lose sleep over anything."

I shrugged. She was right. I've been divorced, stabbed, shot, and thrown off of a bridge without losing a minute of sleep. I sighed and stuffed a couple of French fries into my mouth. They were hot and salty, but they might as well have been carrot sticks, as much as I enjoyed them. I took a bite of my sub next as I tried to work out how to answer her. Was I OK? I wasn't too sure.

One thing I knew was that if I couldn't trust ML, I couldn't trust anyone. We had a lifetime of history - from swapping lunches and clothes to covering for each other when we wanted to break curfew; and she'd never told anyone that I'd thrown all of Joyce Barnhardt's clothes into the boys' locker room back in tenth grade.

I took a deep breath. "Tell me the truth, am I a hot mess?"

Mary Lou blinked. "What brought this on?"

So I told her all about dinner at my parents' last night and what Mary Alice had overheard. I even told her about some of the conclusions I'd reached the night before.

When I'd finished, she just shook her head. "Two things – when has your Mom ever been happy about your life and why are you listening to your sister? It's not like her life has been all sunshine and roses lately, either." She snorted. "Seriously – how can you not even get the house when your husband leaves you for the baby sitter? And how did she end up with the Kloughn, again?"

I tried, but I couldn't hold back my grin. Mary Lou told it like it was. "Don't know, and Val's never been that great with birth control." We giggled for a few more moments, before I finally sobered. "You got a point, but so do they. My life is seriously messed up, Lou."

Lunch was getting cold, so we tucked in and polished off the subs and fries. Mary Lou caught me up on the neighborhood gossip until our milkshakes came out.

Mary Lou studied me for several seconds and finally broke the silence. "Look, the only one who really gets to have an opinion about your life is you, but I have noticed that you don't look all that happy lately. Are you happy, Steph?"

"Not really." I'd come to the conclusion last night that I needed to make a few changes. I had a couple of ideas for my job, but I didn't have a clue what to do about my love life. I took a big gulp of my chocolate shake for courage, and finally just spit out the main question that had kept me up the night before. "How do you really know that you have the real deal with someone – that it's forever and all that crap?"

Mary Lou smiled. "For me, it was realizing that I would follow Lenny anywhere."

I shot her a skeptical look. "No offense, but that sounds a little too 1950's to me."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not talking about meeting him at the door with his slippers and a martini every night. I just mean that when you love someone, their needs are just as important as yours, and they should feel the same way about you."

I powered through half of my shake as I digested her words. "What if you both have different dreams?"

She shrugged. "If you love each other, you make it work." She finished her shake and pushed away the cup. "If Lenny's lifelong dream was to be a yak farmer in Tibet, as long as the kids were going to be OK, we'd find a way to make it happen."

"Wow. That's pretty deep." Mary Lou was as much of a Jersey girl as I was, and if she could contemplate living thousands of miles from the nearest mall or pizza parlor, that was something else, all right.

She grinned. "It's the old cliché – what are you willing to do for love?"

R&S~R&S~R&S

Mary Lou's words stayed with me over the next week. On the surface, life went on as usual. I got up every morning, showed up at the Bonds office, had a couple of donuts and then went after my skips. I'd somehow managed to bring in Jimmy Palowski without seeing his boys on Monday, and I'd since hauled in a minor gang-banger, a shop-lifter and a few drunk and disorderlies. I'd rolled in garbage once and ended the week without my Escape blowing up.

But every night, I made plans and mulled over Mary Lou's question. What would I do for love? Trouble was, I sort-of loved two men. Luckily, I could safely ignore my feelings for Ranger, for now, since we weren't in a relationship and probably never would be.

But Joe Morelli was another matter. Joe's a Trenton homicide detective, and we've been together off and on for a few years, now. On paper he's perfect for me. He's a couple of years older than I am, has a good job, a house, a dog, and arguably the best ass in Trenton. He also shares my love of cold beer, hot pizza, and a good game on TV.

I've always been drawn to Joe, which explains why I gave up my virginity to him on the floor of the Tasty Pastry when I was 16. And since collecting cherries had been Joe's main hobby in high school, my first time was pretty decent. It was the morning after that wasn't so great. Joe left for the Navy, but not before writing about our encounter on men's room walls all over town. I got my revenge a couple of years later, though, when the front bumper of the car I was driving just happened to meet his leg. The vehicular assault was probably overkill, but we'd tacitly agreed to call it even, I guess, because we hadn't crossed paths again for almost ten years.

The next time I saw him, he was my first big skip. I brought him in, and helped him clear his name of a murder charge in the process. We started dating after that and it was mostly good – except when we argued about my job or one of my cars blew up. I knew I loved Joe, but I wasn't sure I loved him enough to go farm yaks in Tibet, so to speak.

I probably would have continued to overthink everything, but Joe called me the Saturday after my birthday. "Hey Cupcake, I just got back in town. Want to come over tonight?"

"It's good to hear from you," I answered. _Huh. I guess that meant we were in an on-phase. _

Joe laughed. "Hell if I know, but Bob misses you and there's a game on."

Shit. I'd said that aloud. "I've missed you, too. Whose turn is it to bring the pizza?"

It was my turn, so I jumped in the shower and showed up at Joe's a little after 7 PM with a Pino's box. Joe's dog, Bob, met me at the door. I managed to keep the pizza out of his way as I patted him on the head. "Who's the good boy, Bob?" I put the sub I'd bought him in his bowl before going in to greet Joe.

The game wasn't on yet, but Joe already had the beer in a cooler next to his couch, and the paper plates and napkins were on the coffee table. Joe put the remote down, and gave me a quick peck on the lips as I put our dinner down.

As we dug into the pizza, I took a good look at the both of us. Joe was in a Trenton PD T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that hung just so off of his hips. I'd gone easy on the mascara, but I'd curled my hair and put on one of those tank tops he really liked. We'd watch the game, maybe fool around a little during commercial breaks, and afterward, we'd go upstairs and have sex. Since it'd been a few weeks for us, we might even go a couple of rounds before falling asleep. Our relationship was comfortable, and that was a good thing. Usually.

I blame Mary Lou for what I said next. "Are we happy, Joe?"

Joe's head turned toward me so sharply that a string of cheese landed on his chin. "What the hell kind of question is that, Cupcake?"

I sighed. "A pretty good one. Look – I love you, and you love me, right?"

Joe nodded warily. "Of course I do. What's brought all this on?

I shrugged. "It's been a hell of a year, that's all. You spent part of the summer on crutches, I got tossed off of a bridge by your godfather's goons." Before all that, I'd spent ten days in Hawaii with Ranger. Joe hadn't been happy when he'd shown up at the resort Ranger and I had been staying at, but things had settled down pretty quickly between us.

Joe snorted. "Don't forget that your apartment got blown up – twice, and you almost got killed by a madman – twice."

"Yeah," I said quietly. "But at least we got the bad guys." Some good had come of all of the mayhem, at least. Ranger's friend Kinsey had gotten married – after the guy who'd been after him and Ranger had blown himself up in my apartment. Joe and I had busted a ring of organ harvesters, and though I couldn't take all of the credit, at least Vlatko hadn't poisoned half of Atlantic City.

Joe rolled his eyes. "If you say so."

"What do you mean by that?" I narrowed my eyes at him. "It wasn't always pretty, but I got the job done."

Joe shook his head. "I don't want to get into this with you tonight, Cupcake, but no, you really didn't."

I took a deep breath and counted back from ten. I really didn't feel like arguing with him tonight, either. "You haven't complained about how I do my job in a while."

He knocked back the rest of his beer and grabbed another bottle from the cooler. "Jesus. It's not like it would've done me any good."

_Oh my God_. I had to fight to draw air into my lungs as the truth of his words hit me. Over the last few months we hadn't argued all that much about me bounty hunting or where our relationship was headed, but it wasn't because Joe accepted my job or we were ready to settle down. At some point we'd given up and we hadn't even realized it.

Beside me, Joe sighed. "Look, forget I said anything."

"I'd really like to, but I've been thinking a lot, lately." I swallowed around the lump in my throat. "Val called me a hot mess the other day." I took a deep swallow of my own beer and wondered why I couldn't just shut my big mouth.

Joe shrugged and then leered at me. "Maybe so, but the operative word is 'hot', Cupcake."

He leaned in toward me, but I managed to turn my head so that his lips landed on my cheek instead. I pulled back slightly. "Tell me the truth, what do you think about my skills as a bounty hunter, Joe?"

Joe raised an eyebrow. "Skills?" When I just glared at him, he slumped back against the couch cushions and raked a hand through his hair. "You're like a dog with a bone when you're after something, and you have the damnedest luck, but Jesus." He sighed. "I wouldn't exactly say you have skills, Cupcake."

Ouch. That hurt, but I'd unfortunately come to almost the same conclusion, so I couldn't really get mad at him. "OK," I said slowly. "How would you feel if I got serious about my job – you know, started carrying my gun and got some training?"

Joe squirmed slightly. "I wouldn't hate it..."

"But it's not exactly what you want, is it?" I leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, letting him know that we'd be OK, no matter what. "If you could have anything you wanted in life, right now, what would it be, Joe?"

He grinned, crookedly. "Besides a few million dollars and you in a bikini right now?"

I socked him in the arm, lightly. "Be serious, Joe."

He took a deep breath and looked me right in the eyes. "I'd like to get married and raise a family."

_With you._ He didn't say those words outright, but I heard them just the same. I sat back and looked at him steadily for several seconds. Joe was a handsome man, with strong Italian features, eyes the color of melted chocolate, and unruly brown hair that I loved to run my fingers through in bed. I loved him….

But Mary Lou's words were echoing through my head. Joe wanted a wife and the mother of his children, and as much as I hated to admit it, I wasn't ready for that and maybe I never would be. I loved Joe, but not nearly enough to make it work. And if his feelings about my job were anything to go by, maybe he didn't love me enough, either.

"That's a good dream, Joe, and you deserve to have it come true. But…" I bit my lip, not sure how to continue.

"But it's not going to be with you, is it?" He asked, his expression going from determined to bleak in a split second.

I blinked back the tears that suddenly threatened. "No." I pasted on a wobbly smile. "Could you imagine what we'd be like, married to each other? We fight over peanut butter, for Christ's sake!"

His answering grin was equally wobbly. "Yeah, we'd probably kill each other within a year." His gaze hardened, then. "And if we didn't, you'd probably try to chase crooks with a baby strapped to your back and I'd have to wonder if Mañoso was sneaking into my bed when I was working nights."

OK – that really hurt, but I didn't want this to get ugly, so I bit back the torrent of angry words that I was itching to let loose. Besides, my conscience wasn't exactly clear when it came to Ranger. Yeah, Joe and I had been off more than we'd been on, and I'd hid behind our non-commitment agreement, plenty. But, if I'd really wanted to commit to Joe, I wouldn't have ever let Ranger poach. Joe and I had been just marking time for a while, and it wasn't fair to either of us.

I stood and shook my head sadly. "I may not want to get married and have kids, but I hope that you know Ranger doesn't have a thing to do with it. With us."

Joe's jaw clenched. "Whatever. Tell Mañoso you're his problem, now."

I closed my eyes briefly. I'd probably cry as soon as I got home, but right now, I just felt numb. "I won't, because, guess what, Joe? I'll be my own problem from now on, and I'm good with that." I grabbed my purse off of the end table and made my way to the door.

"I'll leave all the stuff you've left at my apartment and your key here while you're at work on Monday. I'm sorry, Joe. I hope you find what you're looking for."

The last thing I heard as I walked out of Joe's life was the sound of his beer bottle breaking against the wall.

* * *

><p>AN: So – that's my version of Steph and Joe's breakup. I never get tired of writing them. I tried to write them true to character, but how I think Steph would be with just a teensy bit of self-awareness.<p> 


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.**

**AN: As I mentioned in the story description, I may use anything in the books, up to Top Secret Twenty one. For those who haven't read the latest book yet, I'll try not to spoil it too much, but the following quote is important to this chapter: **

Ranger smiled. "There are times when I seriously consider marrying you, but then I get yet another black mark on my path to enlightenment and forgiveness and I scratch marriage off my bucket list."

"Really? You think about marrying me?"

"Marrying you might be extreme, but once in a while I think about sharing my closet." ― Janet Evanovich, _Top Secret Twenty-one_

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><p>Chapter 3: Figuring it out as I go along<p>

* * *

><p><em>Previously: "I'll leave all the stuff you've left at my apartment and your key here while you're at work tomorrow. I'm sorry, Joe. I hope you find what you're looking for."<em>

_The last thing I heard as I walked through the door was the sound of his beer bottle breaking against the wall._

I did go home and cry myself to sleep after my breakup with Joe. And when I woke up the next morning, I cried some more and ate my weight in Tastykakes and ice cream. But sometime after I'd polished off the last of my Ben and Jerry's, I realized that I was going to be OK. Sure, I'd miss the sex, and having someone to come home to sometimes, but I knew that Joe and I would both be just fine without each other. We just weren't meant to be.

So, I pulled myself together and showed up at my parents' for dinner the night after Joe and I broke up. In the past, I would've avoided my mom like the plague, but I'd decided that it was high time that I grew up a little. And I figured that grownups didn't let their families find out about their change in relationship status from the local gossip network.

My dad just shrugged and asked me the pass the gravy. Grandma wondered if that meant I was going to go after 'that hot Cuban bounty hunter'. I really wish she'd never seen Ranger naked in the shower that time, because now she wanted great-grandchildren from him. I just shook my head and told her that Ranger wasn't exactly father material.

My mom wasn't too upset that Joe wouldn't be coming to dinner any more, strangely enough. But she definitely wasn't happy that I was farther than ever from settling down. I had to keep telling myself that she meant well, but frankly, hearing that Stella Marzoli's daughter had just got engaged, or that Betty Sajak's niece would never break up with a man with a good job got old. Really fast.

But I did realize one thing – the world didn't end just because I was single. Such a simple concept, but boy, was it ever liberating to realize that my life really was my own. And I was determined to start building a new, better life for myself, even if I had to do it one piece at a time.

So, the sun continued to rise every morning, I hauled in bail jumpers for my cousin Vinnie, and Joe was spotted at Rossini's with Lisa Franconi's younger sister. Brian Simon and a Rookie at the Trenton PD didn't waste any time asking me out, either. I turned them both down flat, and not just because Brian was a lying, Bob-abandoning sleaze and the Rookie was barely old enough to shave.

That was my second big decision, after breaking up with Joe: no dating for a while. I wanted to focus on getting better at my job. Besides, I'd decided that if I ever got serious with anyone again, it would be for real, genuine, willing-to-bounty hunt-in Tibet love.

As the weeks went by, I discovered that I had allies in my quest to improve myself. One of them, I'd expected. When Joe's grandmother Bella had threatened to put the eye on me so that my teeth would fall out and I'd never bring in another skip, Grandma had told her that she was descended from gypsies and could cast a curse just as well as Bella could. As a bonus, Grandma had scared away the guy Mom had tried to set me up with. I'd almost felt sorry for Salvatore Mancini, though, on account that Grandma had spent the whole night groping him under the dinner table. But you know what they say – all's fair in love and war, and Grandma had had fun.

I _was_ surprised when my dad showed up at Sunny's gun shop shortly after Joe and I had broken up, while I was trying to get the guts up to shoot at some paper men. I'd realized that if I'd bothered to carry my gun more, I'd probably have avoided a few of the scrapes I'd been in over the years. But that didn't make me hate my gun any less.

Anyway, one of his Lodge brothers had seen me going into the gun shop and called him. For once, I was glad that everyone was in my business, because my dad had told me he was proud of me, and then he'd taken up residence in the next lane over. He didn't make a big speech or try to correct my stance or anything, but just having him there made it easier for me to pick up my gun. Since then, we'd met up twice a week for range time, and if it wasn't the most traditional father-daughter time ever, it worked for us. Dad had even bought me a new holster once I'd started keeping my eyes open when I aimed.

So, all in all, my quest to not be a hot mess was going pretty well. I'd sort of figured out my love life, and I'd even gone to a couple of self-defense classes at the Y. Imagine my and Peanut Wollenski's surprise when it turned out that I'd learned enough to take him down. Don't let his name fool you, Peanut is three hundred pounds of mean, and he smells like stale beer and BO.

But, despite my progress, I knew that I still needed more training, which was why I pulled on my big girl panties and paid a visit to RangeMan a couple of weeks before Thanksgiving. My usual parking spot was open, and the elevator was waiting for me when I pulled into the underground parking garage. I hadn't visited in a while, but a click of my key fob took me right up to the control room on the fifth floor. Ranger's office door was open, so I just called out a greeting to the guys as I went in to see the man himself.

Ranger looked up and smiled when I rapped lightly on his door frame. "Come on in, Babe."

I sat down in his guest chair, but even though I'd rehearsed what I was going to say on the way over, I was drawing a blank. Ranger's a patient man, so he just waited until I could get my thoughts straight. "I've been making a few changes," I finally blurted out.

"I noticed." Ranger nodded toward the holster on my hip. "The gun looks good on you. Sexy"

I rolled my eyes. "You're turned on by the weirdest things." Most men just liked to look down my shirt.

His grin turned wolfish. "What can I say? I'm a sick man."

I hid my answering grin behind my hand. "Yeah, whatever." He was also a good man, which was why I was about to ask him for help. "The thing is, I've realized lately that I can't just keep on relying on luck and you to pull me out of trouble."

"Babe." That one word could mean a hundred things. I didn't always have my decoder ring handy, but I was pretty sure I knew what he was trying to tell me.

I shook my head. "I know. No price. But that doesn't change the fact that I've been doing this job without training for too long." I took a deep breath. "I was wondering if you could recommend a trainer for me?"

His lips spread in a slow, sensual grin. "I'd be glad to spar with you."

Yeah, like I could handle having Ranger's hands on me. If I wasn't careful, I'd end up riding him like a pony. When Ranger's eyes grew hot and dark I ducked my head to hide my blazing cheeks. "I said that aloud, right?" Ranger just smiled, so I told him about my trips to the gun range and what I thought I could afford to pay someone for training.

After I'd finished, he studied me silently for several moments. "What does Morelli think about all of this?"

I opened my mouth to tell him that Joe and I were through, but Ranger had always said that he wouldn't hesitate to move in on me if Joe was out of the picture. As much as I'd love a Ranger-induced orgasm or five, I didn't need the complications casual sex with him would bring to my life. "I need to do this for me," I told him instead. "So, can you recommend someone around here?"

"I have a better idea," he said as he leaned forward in his chair. "Come work for me – training's included in the job package."

More like it was mandatory, along with running ten miles before breakfast and eating nothing but bark and twigs. I shook my head slightly. "Thanks for the offer, but I can't take you up on it."

His intent expression melted away as his blank face slammed into place. "Explain."

I hated it when he hid his thoughts from me, but I was through with dancing around the truth just because it was easier. "I appreciate everything you do for me, but I can't just accept a pity job I'm not qualified for."

Ranger's expression hardened slightly. "I don't do pity. One thing you should know by now is that I don't mess around with my business. Whether or not you believe it, you have skills I want for RangeMan."

Oh. It was stupid and girly, but I couldn't resist my next question. "What skills do you mean?"

"You have the best instincts I've ever seen for putting together information to find a skip. You always get your man, Babe."

Well that was a lot nicer than what Joe had said. "You're forgetting that I roll in garbage and my cars get blown up a lot."

"I have good insurance." His lips twitched slightly before settling into the same carefully neutral expression as before. "We can work on your takedown skills, but you can't teach instincts like yours. You have a way of putting people at ease, so you'd be good at client relations, too." Ranger pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Some of our clients find me and my men intimidating."

I couldn't help but giggle. Ranger's men were huge and almost as badass as he was. "I can't see why they feel that way, you're all just a bunch of pussy cats."

"Babe." Ranger just shook his head. "So what are your other objections?"

Damn, I forgot that he could read me so well. It was like he had ESP. "I'm tempted," I told him. "But, to be honest, I'd go crazy if I had to sit around doing background searches all day."

"Most of my employees divide their time between the office and the field."

OK – that was clear as mud. "So, I would spend, what, less than half of my time doing searches?" At his nod, I continued. "What about monitor duty or stakeouts?" Watching a bunch of security feeds or sitting in a truck freezing my butt off weren't my idea of a good time.

He sighed. "I won't lie, everyone does one four hour monitor shift a week, unless they're injured, then it's more. You'd be doing more patrols and client calls than stakeouts."

That sounded OK, but I still wasn't convinced. "I would still get to bring in skips and work outside of the office?"

He nodded. "As long as you qualify in the gun range and pass the basic self-defense assessment."

Put that way, it didn't sound so bad, but I still had the sneaking suspicion that he'd try to make me give up Tastykakes. Besides, I wasn't sure it was a good idea to work for someone I'd seen naked.

Ranger's lips spread into a full, two-hundred watt grin. "You can see me naked anytime you want, Babe, but all field employees at this branch report to Tank, if that makes you feel any better."

Oh God, I really needed to stop thinking aloud like that. I was pretty sure that my cheeks were flaming, but I still had questions. "So, I'd be a regular employee, no special treatment or anything?" As much as I hated exercising or sitting behind a desk, I didn't just want stuff handed to me anymore. And I didn't want the job just because the boss liked me.

He nodded. "But if the men pull the usual shit they do for new recruits, I might have to kill them."

Since I'd heard that the last new hire had been left in his underwear in the middle of the Pine Barrens, I guess I could get behind that little bit of special treatment.

R&S~R&S~R&S

Over the next couple of weeks, I seriously considered taking the job at RangeMan. But I still couldn't quite make up my mind, so I went to my friends for advice. Connie and Lula weren't much help, since they thought I should insist on daily nooners with Ranger as part of my compensation package. However, if I took the job, I wanted to be taken seriously – so that pretty much took sex with the boss off of the table.

Mary Lou wanted to know if RangeMan provided health insurance, and told me write up a list of pros and cons. It turned out to be a solid suggestion. On paper, my choices were either to continue bringing in skips for my sleazy cousin for peanuts and with little backup, or I could work with people I actually liked for a steady paycheck. And since RangeMen seemed to always travel in pairs, I figured having a partner would be a given.

So why wasn't I jumping to take Ranger up on his offer? I guess it came down to stubborn pride, and old insecurities. I finally told Ranger as much one day when he'd cornered me in the alley behind the Bonds office. It's funny how before my trip to RangeMan, I'd barely seen him for months, but now I couldn't turn around without him being there. But I'd had fun with it, by asking him increasingly ridiculous questions. It turned out that there was no set RangeMan diet (but eating junk would kill me one day), and no, I couldn't have a cape as part of my work uniform.

I was leaning against the brick wall and Ranger planted his hands on either side of me, so that I was loosely caged within his arms. "So, Babe, got anything else you want to ask me?"

I shivered as his warm breath fanned my cheek, and I bit back a moan as his scent enveloped me. Bvlgari Green was pretty great in the bottle, but on Ranger it was almost enough to make me orgasm. I blame my lust-induced haze for what I said next. "Will I still be a line item in your budget under entertainment?"

"Fuck," he muttered under his breath. He pulled back so that he could look me in the eye. "You're not entertainment."

I wasn't sure I bought that. "You sure seem to find me pretty amusing."

He traced one finger over the curve of my cheek. "Just because you help take my mind off the bad shit in my life does not make you entertainment; not the way you think, anyway."

I felt my heart clench. Put that way, maybe I didn't mind being entertaining. He didn't talk about it, but I knew that he'd seen and had to do some pretty horrible stuff during his time in the military, and afterward.

He looked down at me, his expression intent. "What I think you're really asking, and what I can promise you is that we'll never bet on you or ridicule you."

Shit, that was exactly my fear. I hadn't thought anyone knew just how much I hated it when the cops bet on my latest blunder or car explosion. But still…. "What was up with that line about me being a line item in your budget anyway?"

He shrugged. "I say some pretty stupid things sometimes. It's just another black mark on my record."

Hmm… Where had I heard that before? I cocked my head to one side as it came to me. Since I'd somehow survived calling him on one of his lines, I decided to go for broke. "I've been meaning to ask you about what you said that day in Atlantic City, when we went for frozen yogurt."

"Babe." Something, a look of naked longing maybe, flashed across his face, but it was gone so quickly I must've imagined it. "I've told you I'm not relationship material."

Oh, right, he'd also said that he thought about marrying me or at least sharing a closet. "Relax, I'm not talking about that." I smiled crookedly. "I'm not exactly closet sharing material either." I took a deep breath. "I meant, do you really think you have that many black marks against you?"

His face was blanker than blank. "I know I do."

"I don't agree." Ranger's code of ethics may lean toward legally gray, morally right, but no one could tell me he wasn't a good man or that his soul was actually damned.

As we stood there, staring at each other, I really let myself look at him. His black cargoes and T-shirt were immaculate, and he was still in the kind of shape most action stars only dreamed of, but I could see the toll the last few months had taken on him. It was in his eyes, the set of his shoulders – Ranger was tired to the bone. My mind was working overtime as an idea suddenly came to me. I didn't know jack about redemption, but I could and would help lighten up his life a little bit. I couldn't be his lover, but I could be his friend.

I finally ended our standoff. "OK. I'll take the job, and I'll get serious about the training."

His lips spread into a full, two-hundred watt grin. "Proud of you."

Those three words turned my insides to goo, like usual, but I wasn't done. "I have one condition," I told him, as I put a hand up to stop his lips from descending on mine. "Here's the deal, I'll get a lot more serious about stuff, if you'll lighten up a little." I waggled my eyebrows at him, making him smile. "You know, like sleeping in or eating something with trans-fats every once in a while."

He shook his head slightly, which I'd long ago figured out was his version of an eye roll. "Babe."

He leaned in toward me again, and I waited until our lips were just inches apart. "You know we can't do this anymore, if I work for you – it'd be fraternization."

"We'll have to make this one count, then," he said as he nuzzled my ear, his touch sending streaks of fire straight to my doo-dah. And then his lips crashed down on mine.

Boy, did he ever make that kiss count. And if I let him have another one for the road, well I'm only human, and I hadn't signed an employment contract yet.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.**

**AN: Thanks to everyone who has taken the time to read and review this story. I am trying to respond to the ones I can by PM. I just wanted reassure a couple of reviewers that this will be a Babe HEA. I know I have Ranger still spouting the 'no relationships' line, but I'm slowly taking them from where Book 21 left off. It'll take time to get them together, but they'll get there.**

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><p>Chapter 4: Let me introduce you to the concept of a lazy Sunday.<p>

* * *

><p><em>Previously:<em>

_He leaned in toward me again, and I waited until our lips were just inches apart. "You know we can't do this anymore, if I work for you – it'd be fraternization."_

_"__We'll have to make this one count, then," he said as he nuzzled my ear, his touch sending streaks of fire straight to my doo-dah. And then his lips crashed down on mine._

_Boy, did he ever make that kiss count. And if I let him have another one for the road, well I'm only human, and I hadn't signed an employment contract yet. _

I went to see Tank, Ranger's right hand man, about the job a couple of days after our talk in the alley. I'd spent the better part of the previous day chasing Jimmy Smothers around town before finally cornering him in the kitchen of the Hunan Wok, where he worked. The egg drop soup actually worked wonders for my hair, but I decided to take it as a sign that I should give my notice to Vinnie.

Tank's about six feet, six inches in his bare feet, and he's built like his nickname. I knew his mother had named him Pierre, but I was pretty sure she was the only one who got to call him that. He's spent a lot of time guarding me over the years, so we're sort of friendly. For example, I know that he woke up engaged to my friend Lula once, and he has three cats named Applepuff, Suzy, and Miss Kitty. The cat pictures in his office don't make him any less scary, though. I tried to not fidget as he stared at me across his desk.

"This is the standard contract, with a three month probationary period," he said as he pushed a stack of papers toward me.

I picked them up and flipped through the pages. "Can we define the work duties a little more?" I asked. I trusted Ranger with my life, but my marriage and divorce from Dickie Orr had taught me to read the fine print and to get everything in writing. I read through to the end, then pushed the contract away.

"Problem, Steph?" Tank's voice was gruff and deep as Barry White's.

"Is that really the standard RangeMan salary?" I asked, suspiciously.

He shrugged. "For the first year. You can negotiate terms with the boss man if you don't like it."

"No, this is plenty," I said quickly. I didn't make sixty grand in _two _years working for Vinnie. I looked up at Tank. "Why didn't I take this job before now?"

He threw back his head and laughed. "Don't know, but I'm glad you're on board now."

I tried to raise just one eyebrow at that remark, but I'm pretty sure I failed. "Just between us, would you hire me if Ranger hadn't already?"

"Are you going to carry your gun and start training?" Tank regarded me steadily for a long moment. "And are you going to be a pain in my ass?"

I patted my shoulder bag. "Already carrying, and yes to the training." I shot him a cheeky grin. "And I'll try not to be a bigger pain than usual."

Tank chuckled and held out his hand to shake. "Then welcome to RangeMan, little girl."

We spent the next half an hour or so hammering out my initial work and training schedule. I'd be spending part of my time helping Rodriguez with background searches (I could feel my butt cramping already), with the rest of the work week split between training sessions and learning the ropes on the security side of the business. I was scheduled to go out with Hector or Ramon to several installations over the next few days and my unnamed partner and I would start checking in on existing clients the next week. Ranger had been serious about my helping out in client relations, and I found myself strangely excited about the prospect. Maybe it was the Burg busy body in me, but I liked talking to people – especially if they weren't going to try to run from me or push me into a dumpster.

What RangeMan considered field work, patrols, bond enforcement and responding to alarms, had to wait until I'd passed the firearms and self-defense assessments. The amount of training I'd be doing over the next three months – range time, self-defense, defensive driving, and something called covert surveillance tactics – was a little overwhelming, but only served to underline just how much I'd been slacking off over the last four years or so.

A couple of months ago, old Denial Land loving Stephanie would have probably turned tail and ran at that point, but that was before I'd had to face up to a few home truths. I had Mary Alice and later, Mary Lou to thank for my change in attitude. When I'd first told ML about the job, she'd kept at me until I'd finally admitted why I really didn't want to take it. Sure, I didn't want to be even more beholden to Ranger, but really, I just didn't want to look like an idiot if and when I screwed up.

ML had pointed out that I'd never seemed to embarrass all that easily before. _ "Didn't you once wear your clothes inside out for a week in ninth grade because Sheri Martinelli dared you to, and didn't you do a whole speech in Pig Latin for Mrs. Simpson's English class because you lost a bet with Carl?" _And then she'd sighed and asked me if I really wanted to get better at bounty hunting. I can still hear what she'd told me when I'd said yes: "_Then grow a pair and take the training and the job!"_

The great thing about knowing someone from birth is that they're not afraid to call you on your shit.

To tell the truth, the training schedule was lighter than I'd expected. I finally looked back up a Tank. "So I only have to exercise 3 days a week, and I don't have to do it at 5 AM?"

Tank grunted as he made a couple of notations on the contract. "There are a lot of hours in a day. Just put in the gym time and you won't hear anything from me."

"So I won't have to run ten miles before breakfast every day or bench press twice my weight?" I knew I was being annoying, but I had to make sure.

He raised one eyebrow at my question. "Can you do all that?" When I shook my head, he leaned toward me. "We ain't all the boss man. Brown will help you design a reasonable work out based on your current fitness levels." When I just stared at him open mouthed, he let out a long-suffering sigh. "Is there anything else, Steph?"

"There's nothing about diet in the contract. I thought Ranger would jump at the chance to make me eat bark and twigs." Not that I would do it. Neither of us would survive if I went off of sugar.

I swear the walls shook when Tank laughed this time. "I'd appreciate it if you kept the junk food off-site, but there's no way I'm going to separate you from your Tastykakes, woman."

And that was pretty much it. Since RangeMan was offering to pick up my skips for Vinnie for a while, in lieu of my two weeks' notice, I could start the next day. As I was about to leave his office with a stack of forms for payroll, Tank stopped me.

"Almost forgot. You'll be Jorgenson's partner from now on. It actually works out pretty good that you came on board right now, since his last partner just transferred back to Miami. He's on the injured list for the next couple of months, so your duty schedules will match up."

I blinked a couple of times; I didn't think I'd ever heard Tank string so many words together at once, before. If I remembered correctly, Jorgenson was Hal's last name. On the one hand, I was cool with the pairing, because I knew for a fact that Hal ate real food sometimes. But on the other hand… "Uh… You do remember that I stunned him with his own stun gun once, right?"

Tank's wide face split into a blinding grin. "He doesn't hold grudges, much. Now get your ass out of my office."

R&S~R&S~R&S

Luckily for me, it turned out Hal really didn't hold a grudge. I took him out for frozen yogurt that first day after his shift and told him I was sorry, but he mostly waved my apology away.

"I'd been having trouble fitting in, and then you gave me my very own Bombshell story in my first month."

My cheeks burned. "Uh, glad I could help out, but can you call me Steph from now on?" I'd never really liked being known as the Bombshell Bounty Hunter, and I wasn't sure how I felt about being a rite of passage for new hires. I guess it beat him being left naked in the woods.

My days fell into a pretty enjoyable pattern. Hal and I did searches and background checks in the morning, and then we grabbed lunch in the break room. Sure, the bread was whole grain and there wasn't a meatball in sight, but Ella, the RangeMan housekeeper, is a goddess in the kitchen. She could make tofu taste good. In the afternoons, I had range time or training before heading out on client calls with Hal or one of the other guys. Hal and I hit the gym together after our shift every other day, and since he was still doing rehab for a bum leg, he didn't leave me in his dust. Plus, Hal had a way of motivating me – the one who did the most reps or cardio for the longest had dinner on the loser. I was still mostly broke, so I tried to earn as many free meals as I could.

And though I hadn't expected it, my days were just as interesting as they'd been when I worked as a solo BEA, and I stayed a whole lot cleaner. In just the first week, I learned to pick locks and bypass a security system (that's what covert tactics were), and my range scores improved.

I'm not saying it was all sunshine and roses – monitor shifts were boring, and I spent a lot of time getting tossed around the mats – but I didn't regret taking the job. The biggest surprise were the RangeMen. I'd gotten to know a few of them over the years, and I'd gotten more than a couple of them injured, but as co-workers they were so much more than just the scary, almost silent baby sitters I'd seen them as in the past. They were still really badass, but they were the badasses who joked around with me over lunch and cheered for me when I took Lester down to the mat after he grabbed my ass during sparring practice.

So, by the end of my second week at RangeMan, I was feeling pretty good about my overall progress in my quest to not be a hot mess. In fact, things were going so well, I thought it was time to start implementing my other plan: Operation Loosen Ranger Up.

I woke up at about 9 AM on a Sunday, and after a quick shower and a bowl of cereal, I ran my plan by Rex. "So you think this will really work, buddy?" Rex twitched his whiskers at me, stuffed a raisin into his cheek pouch, and ran back into his soup can. "Yeah," I sighed as I grabbed up a stack of DVDs and my shoulder bag. "If I'm lucky, he won't throw me out of the window."

I made a quick stop at the store and then I hit speed dial one on my phone as I was paying the clerk. He answered after a couple of rings with a "Yo."

"Yo, yourself." I smiled as I fobbed open my Escape. "Are you home today?"

I could almost hear his smile over the phone. "Yeah, Babe, I'm just going over some reports."

"That won't work at all," I chided him as I started up the car. "Can I come by for a little bit?" Ranger agreed, and with an evil grin, I hung up without saying goodbye. Boy, was jerking Ranger's chain fun. I don't know why I'd never done it before.

He met me at his door when I arrived less than ten minutes later. "You hung up on me," he growled playfully.

"Uh…" He was in black sweatpants and nothing else. I can't even begin to describe the glory that is shirtless Ranger. Just the sight of that eight-pack and all of that smooth, mocha-colored skin was almost enough to make me forget that I was off men. I swallowed, hard, and handed the bag of DVDs to him. "Hold this for me while I put the ice cream in the freezer."

"Babe?" He just stood there while I made my way to the kitchen. Confused Ranger was so adorable that I wasn't sure how I managed to keep from laughing.

I came back out and took the bag from him again. He followed me to the couch and sat down on the opposite end from me. "I have a bone to pick with you, Ranger. We made a deal when I took the job and you're welshing." He just raised an inquisitive eyebrow at me, so I continued. "I'm training and my progress is satisfactory, right?"

The corners of his mouth lifted slightly. "Yeah, I saw the video of your last session with Santos. Good work, Babe."

I grinned back. "I hope he's not still walking funny." I cleared my throat. "Anyway, I'm training, but I don't see any evidence you're relaxing any." I made a clucking sound with my tongue. "Seriously, working on a Sunday? You know what they say about all work and no play, Ranger?

His grin was wolfish as he slid closer to me. "I wouldn't want to be called dull, so what are you going to do about it?"

I shivered as his hand brushed along my knee and had to remind myself that I was here to be his friend, not climb him like a tree. "I'm so glad you asked," I said brightly as I took the DVDs out of the bag. "Allow me introduce you to the concept of a lazy Sunday," I told him as I put a little space between us.

He just stared down at the first movie I laid down on the cushion between us. "You want to watch 'Ghostbusters'?"

"Hey, you agreed to the deal. I'm just making sure you keep your end of the bargain." I pointed to the other videos I'd brought. "I'll even let you pick, since you're new at this."

"Just so I understand…" he said slowly. "If I goof off with you for a couple of hours, you'll continue training?"

I'd keep up with the training no matter what, but I wasn't going to tell him that. "Yep," I said, making sure I popped the 'p'. "And don't forget the mandatory ice cream eating portion of this exercise."

He chuckled. "That stuff'lll kill you."

I shot him an impish grin. "Relax, I got no-sugar added sorbet. It's fruit so it has to be healthy."

His lips split into a full, blinding thousand-watt grin. "I hear it's refreshing, too, Babe."

It turned out to be the nicest morning I'd spent in a while. We ended up watching the 'Avengers' because he hadn't seen it yet, and I even got him to eat a small bowl of the sorbet. I had a larger bowl, and it wasn't half bad. It would've been better over a brownie, though. Afterward, we heated up a casserole that Ella had left for lunch, and by 2 PM, I was heading home to take care of some laundry. And when Ranger kissed me gently on the lips before I left, I decided that it really wasn't fraternization if there was no tongue involved.

To my surprise, lazy Sundays became a semi-regular thing for us. I'd figured that getting Ranger to play hooky was a one-time thing, but he'd showed up at my place the next weekend with the 30th anniversary edition 'Ghostbusters' boxed set and a Blu-ray player. Somehow, the better picture quality made it even funnier, and he even let me keep the little Slimer figurine that came with the DVDs.

I had to work the next weekend, but I showed up at his place the first weekend in January and kidnapped him off to my favorite spot at Point Pleasant. He enjoyed us being the only ones on the beach, but I kind of wished it was warm enough to break out the swim suits. Hey – I was giving celibacy a try, but I wasn't dead, yet.

Ranger was in Miami for the next couple of weekends after that, but he more than made up for his absence when he got back. Maybe winter skydiving isn't exactly a lazy Sunday activity, but I didn't care, because I got to _fly._

There was no way I could top that, so instead, I talked him into having the core team over for the Super Bowl, instead. Seriously – how does anyone make it past thirty without ever hosting a Super Bowl party? It's positively un-American. For the record, for such a big buy, Tank can't hold his liquor.

Before I knew it, I was starting my third month at RangeMan and I'd actually qualified for field work. Things were really looking up.

* * *

><p>AN: I do plan on posting the skydiving as a short outtake. Hopefully I'll have it out, soon.<p> 


	5. Chapter 4 outtake

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.**

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><p>Chapter 4.5<p>

Trust me, Babe

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><p>Ranger's POV<p>

Stephanie peered into the duffel I'd just handed her and then looked up at me suspiciously. "There's long underwear in here, Ranger. And it's not even in a pretty color."

_Dios_, she's cute. You'd think I was asking her to wear a sack or something, the way she was wrinkling her little nose. I let myself smile. "Just put them on under your clothes, and wear the jacket, too." She still looked skeptical, so I just pushed her gently toward her bedroom. "I'm going to tell you the same thing you told me the other weekend. Trust me, Babe."

When Stephanie had shown up at my door that first Sunday back in December, I'll admit I'd been slightly irritated. Junior had called in sick the night before, so I'd had to take his patrol shift, and I was behind in reading the monthly branch reports. I was tired as Hell, and it didn't look like I was going to get to sleep anytime soon. But she'd looked up at me with those big, blue eyes of hers, and I'd folded like a bad poker hand and let her in. I barely remember the movie we watched, but I do remember how it felt when she'd cuddled up next to me on the couch.

I'd been abiding by her no fraternization policy because it really wasn't a good idea to sleep with an employee, but I can't deny that I didn't crave her touch. I'd felt more rested after two hours in front of the TV with Steph than I usually did after a full night's sleep, so maybe she was onto something with this lazy Sunday, thing. Just to make sure it wasn't a fluke, I'd had Ella locate a special edition of her favorite movie. I would've watched Ghostbusters a dozen times just to see the look of surprise and pleasure that spread over her beautiful face when she opened her door to me the next weekend.

Sometimes, I wish I could spend the rest of my life making her happy like that, but I know it's not in the cards for us. I've done a lot of bad shit in my life, and I've come to accept I was headed straight for Hell. And after this last year, I couldn't ever let myself forget that there were plenty of people who want send me there, and they don't really care who goes along on the ride with me. Before I met Stephanie, I'd managed the risks to my family by distancing myself from them, and I'd hidden Julie away so well that some of my most trusted associates didn't know she existed. Even after Scrog, I've made sure it's damn hard to get to my daughter.

But then a little white girl from the 'Burg had turned my world upside down, with her big blue eyes, crazy curls and more style and guts than anyone I'd ever known. And no matter what I did, I couldn't keep her out of my world - Steph's stubborn that way. So, I guarded her as much as she'll allow me to, and hoped like hell that keeping her on the periphery of my life would protect her from most threats. So far, it has. And if sometimes I slip up and allow myself a little taste of her; that just proves I'm a selfish bastard.

After our last Sunday at the beach, I'd forced myself to stay away, and a problem at the Miami office had given me a convenient excuse. Sure, it'd taken me less than a day to soothe the client's ruffled feathers, but the branch was due for a performance review, anyway. However, after two weeks of restless nights, I'd found myself on a plane back to Trenton. And now that I was in her apartment, with the urge to follow her into her bedroom riding me worse than any addict jonesing for a fix, I had to admit that I hadn't come back because work was piling up and Tank was threatening to kick my ass. I'd missed her.

She came out of her bedroom muttering as she struggled with the closure on the thick polar fleece I'd bought for her the day before. I hid a grin as I brushed her hands away and did the zipper up myself.

"Damn magic hands," she muttered under her breath so quietly I knew she hadn't meant me to hear. Steph thinks I can read her thoughts, but any insight I have into the workings of her mind is due more to her habit of thinking out loud than any extra-sensory perception. Today, I was just glad to know that I still affected her.

I handed Babe her winter jacket and pulled her close, like I'd been aching to since she'd opened her door. "You never disappoint," I told her as I nuzzled her curls. I haven't checked with my lawyer, but I'm pretty sure a friendly hug isn't fraternization.

Babe must've agreed, because her arms tightened around me for a moment before she finally broke away. I'm enough of a bastard to admit that I loved the hitch in her breath and the way her eyes had darkened to a deep, smoky blue that I usually only saw in the alley behind the bonds office or when she was biting into a donut.

"I'm always glad to see you, Ranger, but why am I dressed for a polar expedition?" She licked her lips, nervously, and I had to swallow a groan. Didn't she know what that did to me? "If this is about that prank Les and I pulled on Cal, I can totally explain. Please don't ship me to Antarctica in a box."

I couldn't help the chuckle that escaped. "You're not being sent anywhere, Babe. Tank said he deserved it." If he'd been more aware of his surroundings, he would've never gotten glued to his desk chair. I should probably be giving Stephanie a raise for keeping my men on their toes.

She shot me an impish grin. "He should've known better than to break in here and hide all of my snacks."

Fucking A'. Like I said, my Babe never disappoints. "Come on, Babe, we're wasting daylight."

She looked up at me suspiciously. "Where are we going, again?"

I tugged on one of her curls before steering us toward the door. "Trust me, you'll like it."

The ride to the airfield took about forty-five minutes, and passed mostly in a comfortable silence. Stephanie filled me in on what had been happening around the office, some, but she always seemed to know when I needed to focus on the road.

We pulled up outside a hangar, and Eagle came out to greet us. "It's about time you came out here, Mañoso. You don't call, you don't write..." he told me as we clapped each other on the shoulder.

I just shook my head. He was as bad as Santos. "That's right, you flyboys aren't smart enough to dial a number by yourselves." I looked over to where Steph was circling Eagle's twin-engine Otter. "Hey, Babe, come meet an old buddy of mine."

I had to suppress a growl as Eagle ignored her outstretched hand and swept her up into a hug. "As much as Santos and Boudreaux talk about her, I'd know Stephanie anywhere." He put her down after a few seconds and I relaxed, slightly. I'd hate to have to break his arms when he hadn't even taken us up yet. He grinned and jerked his head toward me. "After flying around this ugly bastard for years, it's nice to have a pretty face to look at, for once."

"Don't you have a pre-flight check to do?" I growled. I was wrong; he was worse than Les and Brown, combined. Tom "Eagle" Landry had flown me and my team into a lot of Hellholes over the years, but now I was remembering what a pain in the ass he was.

He shook his head. "She's already gassed up and ready to go. We can be on our way as soon as you pack your chute."

"Chute?" Steph squeaked from her place at my elbow. "As in parachute?"

Her expression was a strange mixture of panic and eagerness. Maybe I shouldn't have just sprung this on her. I slid my arm around her waist and pulled her close. It took her a minute, but she finally let out a shuddering sigh and relaxed against me. "Eagle runs a skydiving school, Babe. How'd you like to fly?"

She blinked up at me, and I had to choke back a laugh as the torrent of questions I'd been expecting spilled out. "By myself? Is that even safe?" And my favorite. "You do remember that this isn't Miami, right? We'll freeze our asses off!"

I kissed the top of her curls and then opened the duffle I'd been carrying. "I thought we'd try a tandem jump, first, and it's a lot safer than jumping off a roof," I told her with a grin. I handed her the ski mask and gloves I'd brought for her. "I like your ass too much for you to lose it, Babe. You won't even notice the cold with the right gear."

Steph's cheeks went bright pink. "I should've known better than to tell you that story. Talk about giving information to the enemy," she grumbled as she pulled on the gloves. But her eyes sparkled with excitement as we walked into the hangar. "We're seriously going to jump from a plane?"

"Yeah, Babe." I'd been wanting to do this with her, ever since I'd seen her watch the shorebirds soar over the waves with a wistful expression when we'd gone the beach around New Year's. "We're going to do this, and it's gonna be good."

Once Steph was on board with the plan, the jump prep went smoothly. Eagle gave her some instructions and helped Steph into the rest of her gear while I packed our chute. Luckily for him, he kept it professional; I would've hated to have to kill him if he'd copped a feel while strapping her into her harness.

We were in the air, heading for 13,000 feet less than half an hour later. I could practically feel Steph vibrating with nerves as I hooked our harnesses together, but her face was calm and her eyes bright behind her goggles. When we were over the drop zone, Steph squeezed my arm once when I asked her if she was ready. That was all the permission I needed to roll us out of the plane.

I've done hundreds of jumps, and plenty of them were into war zones, but I can tell you that jumping with Stephanie Plum beat every previous experience. For one thing, she's a much sweeter weight than any pack full of gear I've carried.

Some soldiers face their first jump with quiet stoicism, but most of them go down laughing or screaming. Steph did both. She shrieked loud enough to burst my eardrums for the first few seconds of the free fall, and then the scream morphed into delighted giggles as I helped her spread her arms wide. Three thousand feet came up fast, but once the chute had deployed, I finally had a chance to really look at her. I'll never forget the expression on her face as we drifted toward the ground.

"My God," she said quietly. Without the wind rushing past us at 115 mph, I could hear every bit of the wonder in her voice. "That's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," she said as she gestured toward the drop zone.

It had snowed the night before, and as we got closer to the landing zone, a trick of the light made the trees and ground shimmer like diamonds in the sun. I looked down into her gorgeous blue eyes and smiled back. "Sure is, Babe. Want to steer for a while?"

She did, and she wasn't bad for a newbie, guiding us in long, looping arcs toward the ground with only a few nudges from me. I took over before we landed, and we slid to a gentle stop in the snow. I didn't much relish having a wet ass, but the look of sheer joy on her face after I'd unhooked us and pulled in the chute made it worth it.

"Oh my God!" She shrieked as she leapt into my arms and wrapped her slim legs around my waist. Her touch burned me, even through all the layers of clothing that separated us. "When can we do that again?"

I chuckled. "I'll bring you back in the spring, if you like," I told her as I reluctantly let her slide back to the ground. If one of Eagle's employees wasn't already waiting for us, I would've happily dragged her under the parachute for a little private celebration. But then again, it was fucking cold. "Eagle might even give you a good rate if you want to qualify for solo jumps," I teased as I gathered up the yards of brightly colored fabric.

"Maybe…" Her expression was thoughtful as we walked toward the Jeep parked at the edge of the landing zone. Then she looked up at me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "There's no way I could top that, but I get to plan our next Sunday, right?"

A couple of weeks ago, her words would've sent me running back to Miami, but after this morning, I wanted more of these times with my Babe. I could handle not being her lover, but I was realizing that I needed her friendship more than ever. "Sure, Babe. Anything you want."

R&S~R&S~R&S

I was regretting those words the next Sunday when Stephanie showed up at my front door with several bags from the grocery store.

"OK, I have two kinds of chips and the Coronas," she told me as she unloaded the beer and snacks in the kitchen. "I even remembered the limes." She peered into the refrigerator and then looked around the rest of the apartment, worriedly. "Where's the rest of the food?"

"In the refrigerator." Where it belonged.

"I mean real food, Ranger." She let out an exasperated breath, which would've been cute if I didn't have the sneaking suspicion she'd be demanding a dozen pizzas in a minute. "This is the _Super Bowl_, Ranger, and there's no way you can serve your guests a green salad and a bunch of grapes. It's un-American."

I crossed my arms and stared at her impassively. "I don't remember actually inviting the Core Team. That's all on you, Babe." I paid Santos, Tank and Brown damn well, and if they wanted to eat a bunch of crap, they could do it on their own dime.

When I told her as much, she just rolled her eyes and dug her phone out of her purse. "Ella?" She said after the call connected. "We have an emergency."

The only good thing about the next few hours was that Steph sat next to me. Tank and Brown took the armchairs, and Santos made sure he sprawled out enough on the couch so that Steph was practically plastered to my side. The smug bastard smirked at me the whole time, but I couldn't say that he wasn't looking out for me.

The food wasn't as bad as I'd feared, either. Babe had brought baked tortilla chips, and Ella had ordered Thai for us. The guys had complained when they figured out that it was all tofu, but they'd be thanking me when their fat asses didn't have to run five extra miles the next day. Steph had snuck in an order of egg rolls for herself, and her moans of enjoyment made the first quarter a little uncomfortable. But things really went downhill after Tank, Santos and Brown started doing shots.

"I still say last year's Go Daddy ad was hotter," Les said as he gestured wildly with the tequila bottle. "Danica Patrick wasn't even in a bikini this year."

"You're always thinking with your dick," Tank slurred after he'd tossed back his fourth or fifth shot. "Everyone knows the funny ones are the best. Like that kid in the Darth Vader costume that time." By the end of the half-time show they were at each other's throats.

"Are they always like this?" Steph asked as she watched them in fascination. Les had Tank in a headlock on the floor, and Tank was having trouble getting out of it, despite the fifty pounds he had on Santos. Tank could never hold his liquor.

"Now you know why I don't have them over more." I just shook my head. "Pathetic. He'll start crying during the Clydesdale commercial, next."

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><p>AN: I did a tandem skydive a couple of years ago, so I'm basing their jump on my recollections – though unfortunately, my instructor was nothing like Ranger. For those that don't live in the States, the commercials aired during the Super Bowl are as big of a draw as the game itself. Budweiser (beer) always has an incredibly cute or moving commercial with puppies andor Clydesdale horses. I've cried, so why shouldn't Tank?


	6. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.**

AN: If it feels like I'm being tough on Stephanie, please read through to the end of the chapter - it gets better. I just thought that 4 years of habit wouldn't be erased so easily.

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><p>Chapter 5 – Two steps forward, half a step back<p>

* * *

><p>My third month at RangeMan started on a high note, quickly went south, and ended OK.<p>

To my surprise, and maybe even Tank's, I'd qualified for field work at the beginning of February. It turns out that I can shoot just fine, as long as I keep my eyes open. Switching from my old Smith & Wesson to a baby Glock had also helped my aim and I'd passed my range test just after Christmas. It had taken me a little longer to pass my self-defense assessment, but my patented nutcracker knee and a few dirty moves Les and Hector had taught me had got me through. I still had more driving and surveillance training to complete, but for the first time in four years, I actually felt equipped to do my job. It felt good.

I could still take or leave the exercise, but having Hal there to egg me on helped, and I liked how my jeans were fitting. Tank had been right, starting out slow (or at a crawl, in my case) had made all the difference. Besides, if I had to work out, at least I got to watch a bunch of shirtless, ripped Merry Men while doing it. Talk about eye-candy.

Having Hal as a partner had been the best thing about working for Ranger – and the biggest surprise. I'm ashamed to admit that I'd thought Hal was sweet but a little dim when we'd first met – on account of how I'd managed to stun him with his own taser. I'd since learned he was plenty smart. He'd been one of Ranger's tech guys back when they were still on active duty, and anyone who can repair a satellite phone with a paperclip and a gum wrapper can't be dumb. He was just really shy around women, maybe because he'd been sent to military school when he was practically still in diapers.

Over the last few months of shared shifts and meals, Hal had morphed from an almost silent shadow into the slightly annoying younger brother I'd never had. He was even great on stakeouts, since our taste in music was similar and he had a million stories to help pass the time.

So, with us both back in the field, Hal and I had begun hauling in a few skips here and there. Before I'd come on board, RangeMan had only been taking high dollar bonds, but now we were handling the mid-range bonds again as a favor to Vinnie – mostly because Joyce Barnhardt was even more of a disaster than I had been back in the day. I know it makes me a vindictive bee-yotch, but the husband-boinking skank deserved to roll in garbage.

So far, Hal and I had captured a couple of guys who were FTA for trafficking, and Sylvester Roncini. Sly had been a year ahead of Valerie in school, and somehow he'd gone from giving other kids swirlies to being sort of a trouble shooter for the Grizzoli Crime Family – as in, if you gave the Family any trouble, he'd shoot you. Hal and I had found Sylvester in less than a day, and when we'd finally cornered him outside of Marsilio's Restaurant, I'd taken him down with a knee strike, and Hal had made sure he stayed down. It was beautiful, and made me wonder why I'd never accepted back up before, because having a partner the size of a small mountain has definite advantages.

By the first of March I was feeling pretty sure of myself, like nothing could possibly go wrong. I've found that's usually when the fates like to kick you in the teeth – kind of as a way to say 'stop being so cocky.'

Hal and I had just finished a long patrol shift, and I wanted nothing more than some dinner and a long, hot shower. I was just about to pull into Pino's for my weekly meatball sub when a distinctive blaze orange Camaro shot past me. I knew that car, because it'd been amazingly hard to spot for the whole month we'd been sitting on its owner's file. Juan 'the Fist' Moreno was worth twenty percent of a one-million dollar bond to RangeMan, and Les Sebring was about to forfeit his bond in less than 48 hours. So, I did the only thing I could do. I accelerated until I had him back in sight and then hit speed dial 3 on my phone.

After a few moments, the control room picked up. "Need anything, Steph?"

I was pretty sure I recognized the voice. "Hey Woody, I have eyes on Juan Moreno. We're headed west on Hamilton."

Our connection was silent for several moments, except for the clacking of Woody's keyboard while he presumably pulled up my trackers. He finally came back on the line. "Closest backup is more than fifteen minutes from your position. Do you have Hal with you?"

I rolled my eyes. "No, I'm off shift."

There was another long pause, before he finally said. "Follow and don't engage. Repeat. Do not engage."

"Fine." I had to tamp down on the irritation that swept through me as I ended the call. How old did he think I was – five? I followed Moreno for a couple more miles until we ended up in a semi-industrial area toward West Trenton. It wasn't quite as bad as Stark Street, but it wasn't exactly anywhere you'd want to raise a family.

It was well after dark by the time Juan pulled to a stop outside of some warehouses. I kept right on going past him, just like I'd been taught, and turned into the next side street. The RangeMan SOPs clearly stated that I should remain in the car and wait for further backup, but I knew something the SOPs didn't - those warehouses went on forever and there were so many twists and turns that we'd never find Moreno if he didn't want us to. Luckily, I knew a back way in, thanks to when I'd once spent a week chasing Jimmy 'Snake eyes' Torelli through these very same warehouses.

He was already inside by the time I'd backtracked to his car, so I played a quick game of 'eeny, meeny, miney, moe', before deciding to try the side door of the second building. It turned out that my first guess was right, and I found Juan after only a couple of minutes of tiptoeing through a seriously creepy hallway. The first inkling that I was in over my head was when I realized that he wasn't alone. My second was when the first shot was fired.

In the past, I'd always been pretty pissed whenever I found a new tracker in my purse or Ranger tried to make me carry a panic button. The 'Burg grapevine was bad enough, so I really didn't like knowing he could follow my every move. I'd stopped minding so much when I'd realized that what I'd thought of as spyware was standard equipment for every employee. And when the bullets started flying that night, I was downright grateful for my panic button. Luckily for me, I found a closet to hole up in pretty quickly. Even more luckily for all of us, Juan and his associates were so busy looking for me that Zip, Zero, Manny and Ram were able to get the drop on them.

Three or four months ago, I would've called it a win. None of the good guys got hurt, RangeMan got the bond money, and the Trenton PD got credit for the biggest drug bust of the year. Of course, that was before I'd had to face a whole bunch of irate RangeMen. My first clue that I wasn't going to be receiving the employee of the month award was when Hal hustled me away from the crime scene.

"Hey, my car's just back there," I told him as he guided me toward his SUV.

"Just get in the truck, Stephanie," Hal said through clenched teeth.

I looked sharply over at him, and got my second clue that I was in deep trouble. My normally laid-back partner was pale and shaking, and I could see the lines of tension around his eyes and lips. I tried again when we'd stopped at a light. "Hal -"

He turned toward me, and I could see something in his eyes that I'd never seen before – anger, and it was directed at me. "I can't talk to you now, Steph."

Okay, now I was pretty pissed, myself, but I held it in until we'd pulled into the garage at RangeMan garage. "Look," I finally said. "I don't see what the big deal is."

"You don't?" He asked softly. "The big deal, Stephanie, is that you had no business going in after Moreno like that. You could have been killed."

"But I wasn't." I pointed out, as I let my own anger rise to the surface. "And before you start in on me, do I have to remind you that I am a fully qualified field employee? I'm not a child, and I can take care of myself!" That was the crux of the matter. Would he treat Ranger or Tank like they were a misbehaving toddler?

"The fuck," he muttered, shocking me. Hal didn't curse. He blew out a long, shuddering breath. "Did I tell you how I got shot this last time?" He asked as he gestured toward his left leg.

I shook my head. He'd been back on full duty for a few weeks now, but I knew the wound still bothered him.

"I'm a fully qualified field employee, too," he told me. "And a skip still got the jump on me. The difference is, I had back up and that's the only reason I didn't bleed out on the ground when I got clipped in the femoral artery."

"Oh." But he still was missing the point. I was fine.

"No, you didn't get shot," he continued. "But you led two teams right into the middle of a firefight. I talked to Ram; they went in completely blind."

Oh. My. God. A tight ball of dread settled in the pit of my stomach. I guess he did have a point. But Hal wasn't through with me, not by a longshot.

"Maybe you don't care if you get hurt, though I do." His voice was so soft I could barely hear him, but each word ripped into me like a large caliber round. "But what would you have said to Ram's wife or Zip's mother if either of them had been killed tonight?"

I'd joked with Mary Lou that I'd been hit with a reality stick on my birthday, but this was the reality neutron bomb. Spots danced before my eyes, and I suddenly had trouble drawing air into my lungs. The next thing I knew, my head was between my knees and Hal was encouraging me to breathe. And then I was sobbing against his shoulder as he leaned awkwardly across the center console.

When I'd finally quieted, he thrust a big wad of Kleenex at me and helped me blow my nose. "Are you going to be OK?"

I nodded shakily. "I get it, finally. It's not just my neck on the line, now." Hal grabbed a fresh tissue and wiped the rest of my tears away and then let me blow my own nose, again. I'm definitely not a pretty crier.

When I finally could meet his eyes again, he just shook his head, sadly. "It was never just your neck, Steph."

He was right. I'd been dragging Ranger and the RangeMen into my messes for years. This was just the first time someone had bothered to call me on it. I told him as much, and apologized.

"Just stop charging in on your own like that, OK?" His lips quirked up in a half smile. "I'd hate to have to break in a new partner."

"Yeah, that'd suck," I agreed. I cocked my head to one side. "Tell me the truth – would you have followed Moreno if you'd seen him?"

Hal shrugged. "Sure, as long as he didn't spot me." He grinned then. "But I would've just tagged his vehicle with a tracker and gotten out of there. That's a pretty scary part of town."

OK – Hal was definitely smarter than me. I pushed open the door and climb out of the truck. "Well, I guess I need to go face Tank, now." I blew out a breath. "If I don't make it, make sure Rex is taken care of, OK?"

Hal chuckled. "You'll be fine. Tank hasn't killed anyone in years."

R&S~R&S~R&S

Tank kept a tight lid on his emotions, but I could tell that he was even angrier that Hal had been. As he glared at me from across his desk, I silently prayed that my partner was right, and that Tank wasn't mentally measuring me for a pine box. He narrowed his eyes at me. "The only reason your ass isn't fired right now is that you called for backup before the shit hit the fan. But that don't mean you aren't in serious trouble."

I let out a breath I hadn't even realized I was holding, and nodded.

Tank stared at me some more before he finally sighed. "Can you tell me why you're here?"

God. This was worse than the time I was called to the Principal's office. I was pretty sure Tank wasn't asking a philosophical question, so I considered my words carefully. "I disregarded instructions and disobeyed SOPs." I figured the more military jargon I used, the better. RangeMen loved speaking in acronyms.

Tank raised one eyebrow. "And?"

I let out a sigh of my own. Tank wasn't going to make this easy for me. "I get it now. Running into that warehouse without backup and without a plan put me and the guys in serious danger." Tank was still glaring, so I let him in on the other home truth I'd worked out. "It wasn't even necessary. We could've staked out the warehouse or followed him until it was safer to take him down."

Tank nodded once. "You've gotten away with a lot of boneheaded things, Steph, but I'm going to tell you that this is the last time you do something like that on my watch. Next time, you're out of here."

My cheeks burned in shame. "I understand."

We sat there in silence for a couple of minutes before Tank's expression softened slightly. "I'm gonna assume that you've learned your lesson, because that's how we operate here." He made a couple of notes on the pad in front of him. "Punishment for insubordination is a written reprimand for the first offense and two weeks monitor duty – eight hour shifts."

I swallowed a groan but figured it could be worse. Les and Woody had more than two weeks the other month for replacing the company iPads with Etch a Sketches. "What about mat time?" I asked, nervously. I'd only seen Tank or Ranger discipline a couple of guys on the mats since I'd come to work for them, but I knew that insubordination was a big deal.

Tank pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Maybe we should rethink that policy. Call me sexist, but there's no way any of us are going to take you to the mats."

Since Tank could probably break me in half, I wasn't going to argue.

Tank turned and rummaged through his bottom file cabinet. "Since we're here – we might as well do your ninety day performance review."

"What?" I stared at him gaped-mouthed for a second. "I thought this was a kick-Stephanie's-ass review," I blurted out before I thought better of it. I knew my ninety day trial period was ending in a couple of days, but I figured I'd be lucky to make it to ninety-one days after tonight.

Tank chuckled. "Do you feel like your ass has been kicked?"

I nodded. "Yep – thoroughly."

Tank looked at me solemnly. "Good." He leafed through the file and then looked up at me. "I'll have to say, that until tonight, your performance has been exemplary."

"Right," I said, slowly. I wasn't sure where he was going with this. Many words had been used to describe me over the years, but exemplary wasn't one of them.

Tank nodded. "The numbers speak for themselves. You applied yourself and passed the self-defense and range assessments ahead of schedule." He paused, then. "Though Santos has requested that you stop kicking him in the balls during sparring practice."

I snorted. "I presented him with two choices – stop grabbing my ass, or wear a cup."

Tank grinned. "I told him the same thing." He thumbed through to another page. "I'll have to admit that your last fitness check was the biggest surprise. You scored 70% for the 2 mile run and sit-ups, and 60% for push-ups when Brown tested you the other day."

"Huh?" Seventy percent of what?

"We use the Army Physical Standards Test and require all employees to meet the 60% minimum standard," Tank explained patiently. "Standards are based on your age and sex," he added when I just raised my eyebrows. That made sense. I hadn't even known there were physical standards, but there was no way that I could do as many pushups as, say, Cal. The man's biceps were bigger around than my thighs.

"Hunh. I thought Bobby just wanted to go for a run." I wasn't sure if I would've done better or worse if I'd known he was testing me. At least he'd bought me a frozen yogurt afterward.

Tank just grunted. "What I really want to do is talk about your role in the company."

"Role?" I squeaked out. I was going to be spending the next two weeks in the Lester Santos chair of shame – so named because Les pulled so much monitor duty, and he wanted to talk about making my job permanent? Was he crazy? I told him as much.

Tank threw back his head and laughed. "Chair of shame. You're all right little girl." He sobered quickly. "The thing is, Santos and Rodriguez would have my balls if I fired you on a first offense. We were pulling back on bond enforcement, but you've somehow made even the lower bonds profitable again. Santos estimates that we're expending 50% fewer man hours to find the skips."

I shrugged. "Half of the skips are from the 'Burg." Between RangeMan's search engines and the grapevine, there was no place for them to hide.

"And that's the kind of insider advantage we needed." Tank leaned forward. "Of course, Hernandez in sales and client relations is pretty pissed he doesn't get you full time, but he'll learn to deal." Tank shook his head at my look of surprise. "It seems like every time you and Hal go out on a call, the clients call for upgrades. We got twenty grand a year in additional revenue from the Hollingsworth's alone last week."

"That's the family with the three daughters, right?" Hector had designed the security system to keep intruders out, but no one had thought about how to keep the girls _in. _ I was still learning the security side of things, but I had a Ph.D. in teenaged girl.

"Anyway, between Jorgenson's aw shucks manner and your Jersey attitude, the clients don't know what hit 'em." Tank leaned over his desk and held out his hand. "Keep doing what you're doing, little girl."

His hand dwarfed mine, but it was gentle as he squeezed instead of shaking. A warm feeling swept through me as I realized that this was probably Tank's version of a hug.

I swallowed around the lump in my throat as he showed me out. "Thanks for giving me a second chance."

"Just don't make me regret it," he said gruffly. He grinned then. "Now get your ass out of my office."

Someone had brought my car back to RangeMan for me, and luckily I didn't meet anyone in the garage on the way out. Tank and Hal may have forgiven me, but I still wasn't ready to face the other guys.

My sleep that night was restless, and I woke up gasping from one particularly weird dream in which Juan Moreno was yelling at me in my mother's voice just before dawn. My apartment was dark and silent, and the only indication I had that I wasn't alone was the familiar tingling sensation that settled along the back of my neck. When I sat up, a shadow separated itself from my doorway and Ranger came and sat on the edge of my bed.

"Hey, I thought you were still in Boston." _Crap_ the only saving grace of the last few hours had been that Ranger wasn't there. "You heard, didn't you?"

Ranger nodded. "I was already on my way back." His lips twitched slightly. "Didn't want to miss one of our Sundays."

Oh right. Somehow, in the chaos of the night before, I'd forgotten what day it was. As glad as I was to see him, I couldn't ignore the elephant in the room. "I screwed up, and what makes it even worse, it wasn't the first time."

Ranger sighed. "You take on people and situations that most of my men would think twice about. It's one of your best qualities, and your worst. You scare the hell out of me sometimes, Babe.

That was pretty surprising, considering a couple of the stories Les and Bobby had told me. Drug lords and terrorists didn't scare Ranger.

I blinked back tears. "I never really got it, but now I do. I've put me, you, and so many others in danger, and most of the time, it's for no good reason," I said quietly. "And since I don't think you're going to stop helping me, I need to start remembering that it's not just my neck on the line."

"You're right – I won't ever stop looking out for you." Ranger's face was mostly in shadow, but I could hear the sincerity of his words. Ranger didn't do relationships, but I knew then that Ranger would always have my back. For the first time, I realized just how big of a deal that was, and I made a silent promise to myself that I wouldn't take it for granted, anymore.

"I won't run around without backup from now on," I promised. Heck, after spending time with Hal, I didn't even resent it. Ranger slid his arm around me, and we sat there in comfortable silence for several minutes. Finally, the events of the last twelve hours or so caught up to me, and I felt my eyes grow heavy.

"Hey, what are you doing?" I asked around a yawn as Ranger toed off his boots and dropped his utility belt onto my nightstand.

Ranger whipped off his shirt and slid under the covers beside me. "It's Sunday, and I thought you could show me how to sleep in, Babe."

Taking a nap with Ranger sounded like the best idea ever, so I snuggled up to his side and closed my eyes. I was just drifting off when a thought came to me. "This doesn't count as fraternization, does it?"

Ranger pulled me closer and slung one leg over mine. "If it does, I don't really care."

As I lay there in his arms, I realized that I didn't really care right then, either.

* * *

><p>AN: After a number years of working around military personnel and watching them sweat their twice-yearly fitness assessments, I figured that RangeMan would use the Army Physical Standards Test (AFPT). Actually, I wouldn't doubt that they'd use the Ranger Physical Test, but it'd be kind of insane to expect it of Stephanie (49+ push-ups, 59+ sit-ups, 6+ chin-ups and five miles run in 40 minutes). Spiffytgm does a great job describing the Ranger PT in her story, Undercover Cupcake. I don't know how they calculate the points, but the minimum standards for a woman in the 32-36 age group are 45 sit-ups and 15 push-ups, each in a 2 minute period, and a time of 21:42 for a 2 mile run. I also figured Stephanie wouldn't read the physical standards part of the SOPs too carefully.<p> 


	7. Chapter 6

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.**

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><p>Chapter 6: Movin' on up<p>

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><p><em>Previously: "I won't run around without backup from now on," I promised. Heck, after spending time with Hal, I didn't even resent it. Ranger slid his arm around me, and we sat there in comfortable silence for several minutes. Finally, the events of the last twelve hours or so caught up to me, and I felt my eyes grow heavy.<em>

_"__Hey, what are you doing?" I asked around a yawn as Ranger toed off his boots and dropped his utility belt onto my nightstand._

_Ranger whipped off his shirt and slid under the covers beside me. "It's Sunday, and I thought you could show me how to sleep in, Babe."_

_Taking a nap with Ranger sounded like the best idea ever, so I snuggled up to his side and closed my eyes. I was just drifting off when a thought came to me. "This doesn't count as fraternization, does it?"_

_Ranger pulled me closer and slung one leg over mine. "If it does, I don't really care."_

_As I lay there in his arms, I realized that I didn't really care right then, either._

My new resolution to not go rushing into things without thinking was tested a week later. I'd just gotten home from another mind-numbingly boring monitor shift and all I really wanted was a beer and a nap. I had my keys out when I heard a crash and a muffled curse from inside my apartment. Now here's the thing - since my locks won't keep a kindergartner out, being able to break into my apartment doesn't automatically make you a master criminal. Though, usually my stalkers don't just announce themselves like that. Anyway, I had an inkling that my intruder wasn't exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer.

I was just about to draw my gun and burst in when I remembered my promise to Hal and Ranger. So, I retreated back to the stairwell and called the control room. And because I figured he'd want in on the fun, I called my partner, too. Slick and Zero showed up less than 10 minutes later, with Hal right on their heels. We came up with a plan, and Hal handed me a flak vest, which is really the only fashionable thing to wear to kick down doors.

To their credit, they didn't even try to tell me to stay behind. Slick and Zero took point, and barged in, guns drawn. After a couple of beats, Hal gave me a nod and we followed, with me sweeping right while he swept left. And then we stopped, dead in our tracks. Slick had a scrawny little guy pinned to the floor, while Zero covered him. A few feet away, a set of handcuffs and a roll of duct tape sat on my kitchen table, and a couple of pots bubbled merrily away on the stove. I looked over at Rex's cage, and it was empty at first glance. I looked back over at the stove, and visions of the rabbit boiling scene in 'Fatal Attraction' danced through my head.

"Oh God, Rex!"

Hal must have seen the movie, too, because he went over and gingerly poked into each pot with the spoon that was sitting on the counter. "It's just spaghetti and sauce, Steph."

He and I blinked at each other in disbelief, and Zero chuckled. "You're the only one I know who has people break in to cook them dinner, Steph."

I glared at him. "Very funny." I went over and tapped the wall of Rex's aquarium, and breathed a sigh of relief when he poked his head out of his soup can. Satisfied that Rex was OK, I stalked over to my intruder and glared down at him. "Who are you and what are you doing in my apartment?"

Scrawny guy just glared at me, so Slick ground his knee into the small of his back. The guy squawked, but when Slick pressed harder, he began to talk. "Jeezus, and Munchie told me you were easy to get to. This is the last time I listen to that Mo'fo'."

I rolled my eyes. "That still doesn't tell me why you're here, and if you tell me it's to make me a romantic dinner, I'm going to plant my foot up your ass."

Hal coughed and Zero snickered again, but in the end we got the guy's story. It turned out that someone named Munchie had a beef with Joe – why, I didn't really care – and had sent one Herman Schott to 'convince' me to be his houseguest for a while. He'd gotten hungry while he was waiting for me, so he'd opened up a jar of Ragu that I had in my cupboard. My mom would probably be mortified when it got out that I don't make my own sauce.

As my old pal Eddie and a Rookie were leading Herman out the door, I decided I might as well nip any future kidnapping attempts in the bud. "Hey!" I yelled after him. "Tell your boss that Joe probably wouldn't even cross the street to get me back. We're not together anymore."

My phone rang just after the cops vacated my apartment, and I looked down at the display. I grinned and hit accept. "Yo!"

I could almost hear the smile in Ranger's voice. "That's my line, Babe. I heard you had a little excitement."

I grinned. "Eh. Just the same old same old. A Crazy broke in and decided to make dinner, but the guys and I took care of it."

"Proud of you." There was a long pause. "I'm just leaving Newark. You need me?"

Truth was, I always needed him, but… "Nah, I'm good. The guy's in custody."

"OK. You can always stay on seven if you need to." He disconnected, then, and I glared at the phone. Would it seriously kill him to say goodbye?

Zero and Slick left shortly afterward, leaving me and Hal alone. I crossed over to the stove and turned off the burners. "It really sucks that the food has stalker cooties. I'm starving." Right on cue, my stomach let out a growl.

Hal chuckled. "I figured. I called in the order a while ago, so the pizza should be here any minute."

That right there was a big reason why I loved my partner. Not only had he thought to order in, but he'd known that salad just wouldn't cut it for me tonight.

The food arrived a few minutes later, and we each grabbed a beer and tore into the pizza. Hal paused after his third slice and looked back toward my front door. My Super had upgraded the steel door a while back, so Zero hadn't completely demolished it when he kicked it in. However, the lock was definitely done for.

"Crap – the hardware store's closing soon."

I waved away his concerns. "Dillon keeps extras, I'll call him in a minute." Break-ins were a pretty common occurrence for me, and my Super had learned to adapt.

Hal grabbed his fourth slice, mostly to save it from me, but didn't eat it right away. "Can I be honest with you, Steph?"

I snorted. "Sure. You always are." When his face fell slightly, I lightly slugged him on the arm. "And I'm grateful for it."

Hal grinned shyly at me. "The thing is, my kid nephew could get in here, so why do you stay? It's not safe."

That was an excellent question. Little Hal was really advanced for a four year old, but yeah, my partner was right. The security on my place probably couldn't keep a toddler out, so why was I still here? "I don't know," I finally said. "Maybe it's just habit. I moved in here right after my divorce, and the rent's cheap."

Hal took a bite of his pizza and chewed, his expression thoughtful. "You know, maybe it's time for a change – you know a different part of town, a place with decent locks. Nine years is a long time."

Tell me about it. I'd sort of stalled in my personal development for a long time, but I was a different person now. "Maybe." I chuckled. "But I'd probably have to use a fake name to rent a new place. Can you imagine any half-way sane landlord renting to the 'Bombshell Bounty Hunter?" I was just lucky my current landlords were crazy enough to keep renewing my lease.

"I know of a place." Hal shifted in his seat uncomfortably and rubbed the back of his neck. "I haven't rented out the other half of my house yet."

"That's really nice of you, but…" Hal had bought a tidy red brick duplex not far from RangeMan a couple of months ago, and I'd seen it when it I'd helped him move in. It was nice, but there was no way Hal would want to ride on the Plum Crazy train 24/7.

He must've read my mind, because he shook his head. "You read the background reports on my prospective tenants, right? At least I like and trust you."

They had been interesting reading. One applicant had had outstanding warrants, and one woman had had a whole string of husbands who'd died under mysterious circumstances. "Well, I wouldn't try to marry you and knock you off for your money," I teased.

Hal blushed. "At least think about it. The neighborhood's good, and it's close to work."

"Not to mention that it probably has a better security system than the White House, complete with a RangeMan to secure the premises," I added wryly.

Hal grinned. "If you moved in, there'd be two RangeMen, er, RangePeople."

R&S~R&S~&S

And that pretty much decided it for me. I'd been a little leery of us breathing the same air all of the time, but he'd pointed out that my unit was completely self-contained, with its own entrance and a wall separating us. We'd be neighbors, not roommates. We'd argued a little over rent – mostly because he wanted to charge me less than I was paying for my current dump of an apartment. He'd shut me down by showing me that he was charging me exactly half of his mortgage payment. I guess buying really is better than renting.

We had the next day off, so we spent it taking inventory of my new place and deciding on what I needed to bring from my old apartment. The duplexes had come partially furnished, and most of the furniture was better than what I already had, so I'd decided to only keep my bed and dinette set. It'd been Grandma Mazur's, so it had sentimental value for me. The previous owner had had an unfortunate love of plaid, but Hal assured me that curtains came down and that they made sofa and chair covers. A little repainting, and Rex, my shoe collection, and I could move in.

We finished sooner than we'd thought, so at a quarter 'til 6 PM, we pulled up to the curb in front of my parents'. Hal cut the engine, but didn't reach for the door handle. "Uh, Steph, maybe you've gotten a little too serious about backup. I can just wait out here."

"There's no way I'm going in there alone. My mom's still trying to set me up with her friends' sons. The last one had missing teeth and still lived with his mother." When he still hesitated, I rolled my eyes. "I'll keep Grandma from molesting you, I swear." I'd been distracted the last time we'd stopped by to visit, and I was pretty sure Hal was still traumatized.

My promise was tested right away when Grandma met us at the door. "Hot damn, you brought my favorite stud-muffin tonight."

Hal blanched when she waggled her eyebrows at him, so I took one for the team and intercepted her grasping little fingers.

"Huh." Grandma looked down, but didn't release her hold on my rear. "You've been working out – I bet that hot Cuban appreciates it."

"Ranger and I are just friends, Grandma. You know that." I moved out of Grandma's grasp and leveled a patented 'Burg death glare at Hal when he started snickering, and I didn't miss the knowing looks he and Grandma exchanged. "Oh, can it, isn't it time for dinner already?" I peeked into the living room and sketched a finger wave to my Dad and nieces. Angie was in the corner reading a book and MA was on the floor. I looked closer and wished I hadn't when I realized that she was playing with a Batman action figure.

Grandma cackled. "Looks like you both have the same taste in men," she mock whispered.

Hal suddenly became very interested in the ceiling, and I just shook my head. "I didn't see Valerie's minivan outside," I commented as Grandma and I headed toward the dining room.

"Valerie was going nuts, with both of the babies sick, so the girls are staying with us for a couple of days." Grandma rolled her eyes as she handed me a stack of plates. "Sometimes I think popping out all of those children made her a little delicate in the head," she continued as she made a circling motion around her temple. "I handled sick kids just fine."

I didn't bother to remind her that my mother had been an only child while Valerie had four. I glanced at the clock and started to lay out the plates and silverware, the motions ingrained in me from decades of family dinners.

Luckily for me, Mom hadn't invited any extra guests to dinner that night – maybe because I'd forgotten to tell her we were coming. Dinner was pretty much like always. The roast hadn't dried out, despite my mom's dire predictions, the mashed potatoes were extra-buttery, and no one touched the salad except for Hal and Mary Alice. Of course, Hal used a fork and MA didn't.

"This is certainly a surprise, Harold," my mom said as she passed the rolls to him. "I would've made something special if Stephanie had told me you were coming." She smiled at my partner, but the look she shot me told me she and I would be talking later.

"This is fine, Mrs. Plum." Hal took a roll, and after a pause, took two more. I just laughed at the guilty look on his face and mimed zipping my lips. We had an agreement - I didn't tell anyone when he loaded up on the carbs, and he didn't ever mention the three pints of Ben and Jerry's in my freezer or the fact that I ate cheese puffs for breakfast sometimes. "I'm sorry we didn't call first, but we weren't sure how long the trip to Good Will would take."

That wasn't quite the opening I would've chosen, but I figured I wouldn't get a better one. "Hal's helping me move," I told them. I took a deep breath. "I'm taking the other half of his duplex."

The responses were about what I expected. My mom was silent, my Dad just muttered 'thank God', and Grandma wanted to know if there was an extra bedroom for her.

"We could turn it into a swinging bachelorette pad!" She cackled. Mom crossed herself and Hal went practically transparent with fear.

"Uh, I'd probably cramp your style, Grandma. Besides, the spare room only has bunk beds." I turned and smiled at Angie and MA. "You know what that means, right?"

"More girls' weekends!" Mary Alice crowed. She and Angie high-fived across the table, which sort of warmed my heart. When I'd started working at RangeMan, I'd seen some of the guys with their own kids or nieces and nephews and realized I was seriously missing out by not being more involved with Val's kids. So, I'd baby sat for Valerie and Albert a few times and had the older girls over for slumber parties twice. I was still a little pissed at my sister, but I loved my nieces.

Then I had an idea. "I haven't given notice at my apartment yet, Grandma." I did a quick mental calculation. "I could help you with half of the rent if you want to take over the lease. " With the ridiculously low rent Hal was charging, I could swing it, and I wouldn't even have to cut back on my FMP habit.

"And I'll kick in the other half," my dad blurted out. We all looked at him in shock. Usually the only complete sentence we ever heard from him was 'pass the gravy.' Plus, he's kind of a cheapskate, but I guess the prospect of getting his bathroom back was priceless.

After that, the dinner conversation centered our upcoming moves. I don't think I'd ever seen my dad so happy. Though, when Grandma mentioned that my neighbors might miss me, I suddenly remembered why I was moving in the first place. Every crazy in Trenton knew where I lived, and it wasn't safe.

"Eh, I'll just tell the girls at the Clip n' Curl that I'm taking over your apartment, and it'll be all over town before you know it," Grandma told me. Dad muttered something about just putting up a sign – which wasn't a bad idea.

"Just don't tell anyone my new address, OK?" Hal looked relieved when I said that, and I don't blame him. I could only imagine what a fire bombing would do to his property values. It was pretty relaxed as dinners at the Plums go, at least until my mom practically demanded that I help her with dessert.

"I don't know what you're thinking, Stephanie. Honestly!" My mom reached for the bottle hidden behind the olive oil and poured a couple of fingers of amber-colored liquid into a glass.

I stifled a groan; things never ended well when the whiskey came out. "I'm thinking that I'm tired of getting kidnapped and burned out of my apartment. Hal's duplex has reinforced doors and windows and an actual security system."

"But no man will ever date you if you're living with another man!" She threw her hands up in the air. "Linda Giambucco's single daughter doesn't have a male roommate, and Gina Giovichinni doesn't even live with her fiancé!"

I rolled my eyes. "Ma, I don't even want to date right now." When she sucked in a horrified breath, I softened my voice. "Hal has a duplex. I won't be living with him anymore than you live with Mrs. Markowitz." Mabel Markowitz had lived next door to my parents since I was in diapers, and except for insisting on painting her side mustard yellow, they got along.

"It just doesn't look right." She sighed. "Don't you want to be married?"

I grabbed the plates and began to slice up the chocolate torte as I considered my answer. Six months ago, I would've run screaming out of the kitchen by now, and even two months ago, I would have deflected. But I'd been thinking about what I really wanted for a while, now. "I think I do want to someday, if I find the right man."

"You had a perfectly good man with a steady job and a house and you broke up with him!" Mom knocked back the rest of her whiskey, and crossed herself.

I sighed. "Joe is a good man, but he's not the right man for me," I said slowly, choosing my words carefully. "Joe wants a stay at home mother for his kids, and that's not me." When my mom just scoffed, I tried another approach. "What was Valerie's favorite game when we were little?"

She smiled wistfully. "She was always dressing up her dolls and playing house."

"And what was mine?"

From the movement of her lips, I was pretty sure she was saying a rosary or something, but when she opened her eyes, her gaze was still wistful. "You played spies or superheroes with the neighborhood boys."

I gave her arm a quick pat. "Yeah, and I guess I never grew out of it." I shrugged. "Well, I don't want to be a superhero…." Not exactly, anyway. "But I do want a career I can feel good about and a man who supports that." I was working on the first part, at least.

She blew out a breath and then grabbed a Tupperware container from the cabinet. "I still don't understand, but you're my daughter and I love you. I'd better pack up the extra cake for you and Harold before your father gets to it."

I laughed, and relaxed for the first time since I'd sat down to dinner. "Sure, Ma."

R&S~R&S~R&S

The rest of the week went pretty quickly. I finished out my monitor shifts, and in the evenings, I packed up my apartment. Since I wasn't taking much furniture, and I was leaving my kitchen stuff for Grandma, it didn't take me long. What took most of our down-time was picking out the new paint. I was pretty much ready to just pick colors at random, but Hal wasn't cooperating.

"This is the third time we've been here," I groused as we headed back to the paint counter at Home Depot. "I don't think they've invented any new paint colors since yesterday," I snarked.

Hal scowled back. "These things take time." When we got to the counter, he was all smiles though. "Hey, I didn't know you were working tonight, Lisa."

I looked from him to the pretty redhead in the orange smock and back again. Suddenly, it was all clear to me. There was only one reason we'd practically been staking out Home Depot, and we were looking at her.

"Now I'm glad Chet called in sick," she said coyly. "I would've hated to miss you."

"Remind me to thank him." Hal blushed, which was really frickin' adorable. "Uh, because you really know about paint and stuff."

Her face fell and it was all I could do to not kick him when Hal started to ask her about the different kinds of paint. Finally, I put us all out of our misery and plunked down two paint chips. "I'll take two gallons of each."

When we finally made it out of the store, I turned to Hal. ""She was practically begging you to ask her out and you wanted to know the difference between satin and glossy finish?" I whapped him on the arm. "What is wrong with you?"

Hal sighed and stared at his feet. "I can't talk to women. I mean, I know what I'm going to say, in my head, but I just choke."

"But you talk to me all of the time." And they say women are hard to figure out.

"But you're different. You're not –"

I cut him off right there. "If you say I'm not a girl, I will have to hurt you."

"No!" Hal fobbed open the Explorer's doors and stowed the paint in the back. "I mean, I know you're a woman, but you're like a sister."

Huh. That was actually sweet. I was quiet as we got into the truck and belted ourselves in. Hal was like family to me too, and I found myself wanting to help him get the girl. We were halfway back to his place and stopped at a light when it suddenly came to me. "Oh my God – I know what you need!"

Hal looked over at me. "A personality transplant?"

I snorted. "No. You need practice," I told him as an evil smile spread over my face. "You and I are going to go on a date."

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><p>AN: Please don't hurt me. *Points to the Babe HEA notation in the story description.<p> 


	8. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.**

**AN: This chapter is taking a little longer than I anticipated, so here is the first part.**

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><p>Chapter 7<p>

Dates and Misconceptions

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><p><em>Previously: Hal was like family to me too, and I found myself wanting to help him get the girl. We were halfway back to his place and stopped at a light when it suddenly came to me. "Oh my God – I know what you need!"<em>

_Hal looked over at me. "A personality transplant?"_

_I snorted. "No. You need practice," I told him as an evil smile spread over my face. "You and I are going to go on a date."_

"Grabbing a cup of coffee is often the first step in dating," I told Hal as we walked into a Starbucks five days after our trip to Home Depot. "How you handle the coffee date determines whether you get a second date or she starts blocking your calls."

Hal stopped next to a table and shook his head in confusion. "It's just coffee, Steph."

I rolled my eyes. "Wrong – it's a chance to get to know each other and first impressions are important." I sat down in the chair opposite him. "You've got a half hour, forty-five minutes tops, to try to figure out what kind of person your date is, and to see if you both click. Maybe it will lead to dinner, or maybe you part friendly strangers. Or maybe you like her but she's not feeling the magic, so you get put in the friend zone." I looked him straight in the eye to emphasize my point. "You don't ever want to be stuck in the friend zone, Hal."

Hal stared at me open-mouthed for a long moment. "What if I'm not, uh, feeling the magic?"

"Is that likely with Lisa? You've been hanging out at Home Depot for how long, now?" Hal blushed and shook his head. But since this was for educational purposes, I answered him. "After you've finished your coffee, you tell her it was nice to meet her, and don't make plans for a second date." I shrugged. "Maybe you can figure out a nice way to let her down, but in a way, you were right, before. The coffee date is a perfect first date because it's nice and casual. You're not making any promises."

Hal just nodded, so I continued. "We'll go over the basics, first. Picking this table was a good choice on your part, but why?"

Hal raised both eyebrows at my question. "Because it was empty?"

I closed my eyes and prayed for guidance. This was going to be the longest cup of coffee in history. I thought back to what I knew about Hal and decided to treat this exactly like what it was – a field training exercise, complete with SOPs and a plan of attack. "No, because it has strategic advantages." I gestured around the shop. "Look at this this way; you can see the door easily from where you're sitting, so you can spot your date when she comes in, but it's out of the main traffic areas, so there's a little privacy." I gestured toward the couch and arm chairs in the corner. "Sitting over there is a rookie mistake. The couch is a little too intimate for the first contact, and the low, butt-grabbing chairs make it hard to look at your date."

Hal nodded and I could practically see him taking mental notes. "Right – find an easily secured position, maintain visual contact with the target."

I thought briefly about reminding him that this was supposed to be a date, and not a military operation, but I decided to just go with it. "OK, it's best to try to arrive at five to ten minutes early. Hopefully you can arrive before your date does and grab a table for the both of you." I paused and looked him in the eye. "Here's how this is going to go. I'm going to leave and come back. You'll greet me, and pull my chair out for me. Try to compliment me on my appearance and ask me if you can get me something to eat or drink. OK?"

Hal nodded and I could tell he was committing my instructions to memory. "Then what?"

I shrugged. "Ask about my day. Tell me a little bit about yourself. You know, make casual small talk."

"Uh, Steph, that's the part I always screw up. I'll mean to say she's pretty, but end up describing how to field strip an M-16."

I sighed. What Hal really needed was a self-confidence transplant. "I hate to break this to you, but you're a catch." The tips of Hal's ears were turning pink, but I started ticking off his finer qualities on my fingers. "You're nice, you're funny, and though I love you like a brother, I ain't blind. You're a good looking man. Even my mom loves you." Helen Plum wasn't easy to win over, but he'd done it.

Hal still didn't look convinced, so I tried another approach. "Look, you can talk to me just fine, right?" When he nodded, I continued. "When you ask Lisa out, just talk to her like you would to me, but maybe a me that you're attracted to. OK?"

Hal looked a little ill at that instruction, but he nodded anyway. "Let's do this."

The fake date went really well after that. Hal helped me with my chair, and told me that my sweater was pretty. I was really glad he didn't compliment my boobs, and told him so. Not only would it have been inappropriate for a date, it would've just felt strange coming from him. He got me a slice of coffee cake and a venti mocha with extra whipped cream without pointing out the caloric content. He even managed the small talk just fine, and I learned a few new things about him. Like he'd played rugby in college, and he'd had a dog named Sparky when he was growing up.

Sure, he'd stammered and blushed a little, but it only made him cuter and more loveable. In fact, I found myself wishing for just a second that we were a tiny bit attracted to each other. But the heart knows what it wants, and Hal's wanted a cute redhead while mine still wanted Ranger. Stupid, stubborn heart.

As the 'date' came to a close, I smiled at Hal. "This was really fun. I enjoyed getting to know you."

"Yeah, I've enjoyed myself, too."

When he didn't say anything else, I suppressed an eye roll. "This is where you ask for another date, if you want one," I muttered out of the side of my mouth.

"Oh, right!" Hal's cheeks were bright pink. "I've really enjoyed this. Would you like to, uh, grab something to eat, sometime?"

I beamed, and delivered my next line on cue. "I'd love to. I'm free for lunch tomorrow," I said with a grin. Hal and I had lunch together more often than not between calls or jobs.

Hal grinned back and we set a time. As we were leaving the coffee shop I patted him on the arm. "See, you did great. Now whose turn is it to cook?" It was almost seven by then and the beast in my stomach had let us both know that the coffee cake wasn't enough.

Hal snorted. "It's always my turn to cook, remember?"

I'd only been renting from Hal for a few days, and he was already the best neighbor and landlord ever. He'd helped me haul all of my discards to the dump or Good Will and he'd organized mine and Grandma's moves with military precision. Woody, Junior and Cal had come over to the duplex for a painting party the previous Friday night, and then a round dozen of the guys had helped Grandma and I move the next day. Les and Bobby had even had a little plaque made that said "The Bombshell Bounty Hunter has moved." I wasn't all that amused, but Grandma had loved it and hung it on the door of my old place. With all of the guys helping, it was really more of a pizza party with a little box toting than a long day of manual labor.

Ranger had even come, though he'd been awfully grouchy for some reason. He'd been in a slightly better mood when I'd had him over the next afternoon for his next lesson in goofing off: pizza and reality TV. Well, he'd only had one slice of pizza, and he'd rolled his eyes through the 'Love it or List it' marathon, but I think he had a good time.

Anyway, Hal and I were already coming up with a routine that worked for us. I had taken over the laundry because he could never remember to separate lights and darks. And because we both knew my culinary talents didn't extend much past cereal and peanut butter and olive sandwiches, he was happy to cook dinner for the both of us. We both agreed that we were on our own for bathroom cleaning, and we carpooled if it was convenient.

We had our second practice date over lunch the next day, and I learned just how much fun it was to confuse the Merry Men. Hal and I were just leaving for the restaurant, when Les and Woody joined us in the elevator.

Les slid an arm around my waist. "So Beautiful, can we join you two?" He waggled his eyebrows. "You can sit on my lap while I feed you dessert."

"That's quite an offer," I told him sweetly as I slipped away from him. "But Hal and I have private things to discuss." I linked arms with Hal and batted my eyelashes at him. "Isn't that right, Sugar Lips?"

Hal choked on a laugh, but pulled me closer. "Sure thing, Honey." The looks on both of their faces were so priceless, that Hal and I laughed all of the way out to lunch.

Hal was a quick study, and I was like a proud mama as I watched him flirt with Lisa the next evening - from a couple of aisles over, of course. I didn't go on the coffee date they'd set up for after her shift – because that would have been just too weird, but Hal had been smiling when he'd knocked on my door just before midnight. She'd agreed to dinner on Saturday, and from the goofy look on his face, I was pretty sure he'd gotten a good night kiss, too. Problem was, we hadn't covered wining and dining yet, which meant Hal needed one last practice date.

"So, you want to just knock on my door when you're ready?" Hal asked me when we were alone in the break room Friday afternoon. I still had a training session with Hector, so we were going to meet up at home, later.

I rolled my eyes. "I can't believe we're going over this. What's the cardinal rule for a dinner date?"

Hal thought for a second. "I pay if I asked her out?"

I nodded. "Yes, but what's the other rule? She gave you her address," I hinted.

"So that means I should pick you up?" When I just looked at him expectantly, he sighed. "May I have the pleasure of picking you up at seven, this evening?"

I smiled. My little bro was growing up so fast. "Of course. I'll be counting the hours." I winked and grinned impishly at him as I backed out of the room. "Since this is a fancy date, I expect flowers and candy, Mister!" Hal started to nod, but then a look of horror spread over his face, just as I collided with what felt like a brick wall.

I turned and found myself face to face with Tank. He was smiling, but the person with him wasn't. "Oops, sorry about that." I ducked my head sheepishly, and then snuck a look at Ranger. He still wasn't smiling.

I wasn't sure what they'd overheard, but I wasn't about to stick around to find out. "Wow, look at the time – Hector hates it when I'm late," I told them as I slid past Tank. And because a RangeMan doesn't leave their partner behind, I turned back toward Hal. "Don't you have that thing to take care of?" Hal's no fool, so he suddenly remembered an urgent errand – way across town.

Next: Ranger's POV


	9. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.**

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><p>Chapter 8<p>

Batman gets hit with the reality stick

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><p><em>Previously: "Since this is a fancy date, I expect flowers and candy, Mister!" Hal started to nod, but then a look of horror spread over his face, just as I collided with what felt like a brick wall.<em>

_I turned and found myself face to face with Tank. He was smiling, but the person with him wasn't. "Oops, sorry about that." I ducked my head sheepishly, and then snuck a look at Ranger. He still wasn't smiling. _

Ranger's POV

I checked my watch and clicked on an icon on my monitor screen. When the tracking program was up and running, I clicked back and forth through a couple of screens and growled. It was 19:15 hours and Babe's car was still parked in front of Hal Jorgenson's duplex, but the tracker on her cell phone put her in his SUV, which was currently headed toward Princeton. I double checked, and almost sent the PC flying across the room.

They were partners, so their trackers were often in the same place, but they were off-shift. That fact and the conversation I'd overheard earlier added up to a scenario that had me grinding my teeth as a sick feeling settled in the pit of my stomach. My Babe was on a date with another man. I'd just done a weapons check and grabbed my keys from my top desk drawer, when a voice stopped me.

"You'd better not be going where I think you're going."

I looked up and wondered when Tank had come into my office. _Mierda. _Had I been so distracted by Babe's whereabouts that I hadn't heard my own door opening?

Tank crossed his arms and leaned against the doorway. "I'm going to tell you the same thing I said when Stephanie started working here. You keep out of this and mind your own business."

"Not relevant to this situation." This wasn't a matter of me letting the men handle her training or her reporting solely to Tank. "My woman, my business," I growled.

Tank pulled the door closed behind him and sat in one of the chairs in front of my desk. Ella had ordered only the sturdiest, best quality furniture for the offices, but his enormous frame made the guest chair look like it belonged in a child's room. He leaned back and studied me for several long seconds. "That's the thing. As far as I know, she ain't your woman, Ric. Little girl's a free agent."

"Shut the fuck up, _Pierre. _You don't know what you're talking about." It was complicated as Hell, but he had one thing wrong. She was my Babe_._

Tank raised an eyebrow in amusement. "She dated Morelli for years, and I never saw you like this."

"That's because Morelli's a _Pendejo_." They'd been off and on so much, I knew they'd never really settle down. The idiot didn't know how to keep a woman like Stephanie Plum. Hal, on the other hand, could offer her the kind of life she needed. The kind I couldn't.

"Jorgenson's definitely not an idiot," Tank smirked, echoing my thoughts. "I didn't see it before, but yeah, they look real good together," he taunted. "He obviously has more balls than you ever had, Rangeman."

"My balls aren't the issue."I glared at Tank. Why had I never noticed what an irritating bastard he was? "You know as well as I do what our lives are like, and what I can and can't offer her."

Tank snorted. "I don't even want to hear that lame ass 'my lifestyle doesn't lend itself to relationships' line." He narrowed his eyes at me. "And don't think I don't know about the whole 'she's just a line item in your entertainment budget' shit you told her."

I flinched involuntarily. I've known Tank a lot of years, and we've had each other's back through two wars, a divorce each, and more than a couple of bar fights. I've never once had him look at me like that – as if he were trying to decide between kicking my ass or feeling sorry for me. "Not my finest moment," I agreed.

"You're a dumbass." He just shook his head. "And though I'd rather have my nuts chopped off than sit around discussing our feelings…"

"And I'd rather have mine set on fire than sit here and listen to you," I snarled. Tank was damn lucky he was my best friend, or I'd be putting him out of both of our misery right now.

Tank rolled his eyes at that. "I'm sure you would, but I'm gonna tell you exactly why you are a first class idiot, and you're going to listen." He leaned toward me. "One - all those lines you fed little girl were the number one reason she didn't want to come work here, even though she knew she'd needed training like Santos needs penicillin after a weekend in Tijuana. She figured if you didn't take her or her life seriously, we wouldn't either." He stared at me impassively. "She got enough of that crap from the cop, she doesn't need it from you."

Did he seriously just imply that I was no better than Morelli? Speaking of…. "You're forgetting she quit the last time because the cop didn't want her here."

Tank rolled his eyes again. Maybe he'd been spending too much time with Babe, lately. "Have you seen him sniffing around Steph lately?"

"It's probably just another off phase," I said dismissively. I hoped it wasn't, but I couldn't discount the hold Morelli seemed to have on her.

Tank snorted. "That relationship is so over and done with that he's been shopping for a ring for that teacher he's been dating, and little girl helped him." His lips twitched. "Sort of."

My surprise must have shown because he chuckled and leaned back in his chair. "I figured you'd seen the video by now, but Stephanie and Jorgenson were doing a spot check on that jewelry store on State we secure yesterday, and the cop was there. She congratulated him and then told him that the rule about the engagement ring costing two month's salary didn't apply to him." He smirked. "She said anyone who'd be getting Bella Morelli as an in-law deserved a really big-ass rock."

I couldn't help the laugh that escaped me. Babe never disappointed. But Tank wasn't done with me.

"I'm glad she could amuse you." he said sardonically. "That brings me to the second reason you're an idiot. No matter how much you deny it, you are in a relationship with Stephanie Plum." He stood and leveled a look at me that made most men pissing themselves. "So, either grow a pair and go beg her to give your sorry ass a chance, or cut her loose so she can move on with someone else."

Tank's glare didn't affect me, but his words made my gut churn long after he'd left me alone in my office. Had my stupid, careless words really hurt her so much? Didn't she know how amazing she was? As I sat there, I had to admit that I'd never told her. Instead, I'd diminished my real feelings with qualifiers. Or deflected with humor.

Admittedly, there were times, usually after she'd cheated death yet again, when it was either crack a joke or shake her. Had I taken her less than seriously? I didn't think so, but I had to admit that every time I'd helped her, I'd given her another reason she didn't need to take her safety seriously. I sighed and scrubbed a hand over my face tiredly. Thank God one of us had come our senses. And I had to admit that this Stephanie, who'd taken responsibility for her life, who wouldn't take a second of my shit and still could make me smile on my worst day – was the woman I'd want to wake up to everyday for the rest of my life, if I were a different kind of man.

I checked the tracking program again. Hal's SUV was parked in front of an exclusive little Italian eatery we secured, and I was enough of a masochist to pull up the security feed. What I saw in camera three had me grinding my teeth in rage as I took the stairs to the garage two at a time. Yeah, Tank was right. They did look good together, but there was no way I was going to sit by and watch my Babe flirt and hold hands with another man.

R&S~R&S~R&S

"I'm meeting someone," I told the hostess as soon as I walked inside Tre Piani, and I slid her a hundred so that I could scan the room in peace. I finally spotted them in the back corner, and if he weren't trying to move in on Stephanie, I would've commended Hal's choice of tables. It was the one I would've taken – full view of the room, but easy to overlook from the door. He was a little slow in spotting me, but I could tell the second he did by the sick look that suddenly passed over his face.

Babe rubbed the back of her neck a second later, and turned toward me, her eyes widening in surprise. "Ranger! What are you doing here?" She asked as I came to a stop next to their table.

I kept my face carefully neutral. "I was in the area. The owner's an old friend," I amended when she narrowed her eyes at me. It wasn't really a lie; I'd known Giorgio since our Army days.

I had to suppress a grin when she rolled her eyes at me. _Dios, _she was beautiful – her hair hung loose in a mass of curls, just like I loved it, and her dark blue wrap dress made her eyes impossibly blue. "Mind if I sit?"

"Yes, _we_ do mind," she hissed out as I sat in the empty chair to her right. "We're a little busy." She eyed me suspiciously. "If you _are_ here to see the owner, we shouldn't keep you."

I shrugged. "He won't mind." I turned toward Hal. "Tank needs you to report for a stakeout shift, starting at 21:00 hours," I told him quietly in a tone of voice that usually had my men snapping to attention. Hal proved that he really did have balls when he nodded, but didn't immediately stand. Instead, he and Stephanie shared a long, speaking look, as if they were carrying on a silent conversation. Before today, I was grateful they had such a strong partnership, but now it just pissed me off. "Understood, soldier?" I asked when he just stared blandly back at me.

I was just about to order him to the mats, when Steph stood and grabbed her purse. "You heard the boss, Hal. I guess we're both back on shift."

I reached out and gently took her arm. "You can stay and finish your dinner, Babe," I said mildly as I nodded toward her mostly-untouched plate of sausage Alfredo. "I'll give you a ride home, later."

Her eyes widened. "Just so I understand," she said slowly. "You just happened to be driving by, and decided that instead of letting us finish our dinner in peace, you'd send my off-duty partner on some bullshit errand, while you took his place?"

Put that way, it did sound ridiculous, but I just shrugged.

Her eyes darkened in anger. "You're unbelievable." She shrugged off my hand and leaned in until her lips barely brushed my ear. "You're lucky that this place is a RangeMan client, or I'd be screaming the walls down," she hissed. "Try this shit again, and Tank'll find my resignation on his desk." She turned toward Hal, her eyes suspiciously bright. "I'll be in the car."

She left me at the table, feeling like the fool that I am. Hal regarded me impassively for several long moments. "With all due respect, Sir, you're acting like an asshole." When I didn't reply, he stood and dropped some bills on the table. "You don't deserve an explanation, but this wasn't a romantic date. Steph has been helping me with a, uh, project."

The tips of his ears were tinged a faint pink, and his eyes didn't quite meet mine at that pronouncement, which was interesting. I made a mental note to ask Steph just what this project was, if she ever spoke to me again.

Hal straightened, then, his cold, hard stare reminding me that behind his Iowa farm boy exterior, he was a seasoned soldier. A killer. "Stephanie is like a sister to me, so if you ever hurt her again like that, I'll call _you_ to the mats."

I sat there lost in thought for several long minutes, until the waiter came to clear the table. He was too well-mannered to ask me to leave, but I added a few more bills to the pile and walked out into the night. Tank and Hal were both right. I was an idiot and an asshole; I just didn't know how to make it right with my Babe.

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><p>AN: Sorry for the delay, but this part wasn't coming easily. Next up: Steph and Ranger talk.<p> 


	10. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.**

**Thanks again to all who have read and reviewed. You rock!**

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><p>Chapter 9<br>Come together

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><p><em>Previously: <em>

_Hal straightened, then, his cold, hard stare reminding me that behind his Iowa farm boy exterior, he was a seasoned soldier. A killer. "Stephanie is like a sister to me, so if you ever hurt her again like that, I'll call you to the mats."_

_I sat there lost in thought for several long minutes, until the waiter came to clear the table. He was too well-mannered to ask me to leave, but I added a few more bills to the pile and walked out into the night. Tank and Hal were both right. I was an idiot and an asshole; I just didn't know how to make it right with my Babe._

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><p>Stephanie's POV<p>

The sound of the doorbell brought me out of my doze. I cracked open one eye and stared at the clock on the DVD player. Right. It was 10 AM, Ghostbusters II was playing in the background, and I was still in my jammies. Since I'd barely slept at all the night before, and the cops had been calling me since 7:30, it was way too early for me to face the day. I started to roll over on the couch and go back to sleep, but the doorbell rang again. And again.

On the fourth ring, I pointed the remote at the TV, stalked over to the door, and threw it open. "Eddie, I already told you on the phone that if you want Grandma to stop…" The rest of the words died in my throat. "Oh. It's you."

Ranger reached out and caught the door before I could close it. "May I come in, Babe? Please."

I hated it when he fought dirty like that. Ranger knew I could never resist him when he broke out the 'P' word. But I was still pissed at him, so I crossed my arms and glared at him. "Today's my day off, so I don't have to talk to you, right, Boss?" I knew was being childish, but he'd been a grade-A ass the night before.

Ranger sighed, and just like that, his mask dropped and I realized that I wasn't the only one who'd had a sleepless night. Frankly, he looked like Hell – tired-eyed, unshaven, and judging by the wrinkles in his dress shirt and pants, he was still in yesterday's clothes.

He was silent for so long, that I started to close the door again. "I came to apologize," he finally said. When I didn't open the door any wider, he held up a familiar paper bag. "I brought a Peace-offering."

Just like that, I caved. In my defense, it wasn't every day Ranger brought me donuts, or apologized, so I took the Tasty Pastry bag from him and led the way inside. It was mostly quiet in the kitchen as I measured out coffee grounds and he reached into the cabinet for the new mugs the guys had given me for a housewarming present. I had to hide a smile as he brought down the Wonder Woman and Green Lantern cups, but left the Batman one behind.

When he finally broke the silence, it wasn't what I'd expected. "Why are the cops calling you about your Grandma, Babe?" His lips twitched. "She's not mudwrestling again, is she?"

I snorted. "Worse. She and her friends decided to spread a little cheer at the nursing home. They're delivering stripper grams." We both shuddered at the mental image of my Grandma in a feathered boa and pasties. "I told the PD I was taking the day off from Grandma duty, and that they could handle it themselves." Though I'd probably have to make sure my mother wasn't drinking herself into a coma at some point.

Ranger chuckled. "You come from a long line of scary women, Babe."

I shrugged. "It's the gypsy genes." The coffee was finally ready, so I filled both mugs and doctored mine just as I liked it – cream and a heaping spoonful of sugar. Ranger dumped the donuts out on a plate and followed me out to the table. The easy domesticity of the moment was a little jarring, but come to think of it, we'd been at home in each other's kitchens for a long time. I decided to ignore that little revelation and focus on the big, honking elephant in the room, instead. "So, why did you come by, again?"

Ranger stared down into his coffee cup for a long moment, and when he finally met my eyes, I was surprised by what I saw there. Regret. "I'm sorry, and I had no business barging into the restaurant last night. You're a grown woman, and if Jorgenson's your choice, at least he'll treat you like you deserve."

It took me several tries before I could form words. "Wait. You thought Hal and I are together?" Sure, we'd put on a little show for Les and Woody, but I'd never once thought anyone would take us seriously. That Ranger would care, was just… wow. I still wasn't sure where he was going with all this, but when in doubt, deflect with humor. "You know what they say about assuming things?"

Ranger shook his head ruefully. "Both of our partners have already pointed out that I was an ass. I'm sorry, Babe."

Hal had called him an ass? I stared at him in disbelief- was my partner even still alive? "Oh God! Lisa will kill me," I moaned. "Please don't ship him to Siberia!" I pleaded as I grabbed his free hand. I bit my lip nervously as I wondered how I could make this right. Hal had been looking forward to their date all week.

Ranger raised one eyebrow in question. "Who's Lisa?"

I sighed and told him. I wasn't sure Hal wanted me to spread his business around, but if it kept him from waking up dead…

"So you and Jorgenson aren't together?" I shook my head 'no' and his lips spread in a full, beautiful 1000 watt grin. "Don't worry, Babe. I don't send men to third world countries for telling the truth."

I grabbed a Boston crème as relief flooded through me, but froze in shock for the second time in as many minutes when he took the lone plain glazed donut from the plate. Batman was apologizing and eating saturated fats? Wasn't that a sign of the apocalypse? "Are you sure you're OK?"

He chuckled. "It's not a temple day, Babe."

We were half-finished with our breakfast when I finally got up the guts to ask the question that had kept me awake all night. "I appreciate the apology, but what were you even thinking last night when you interrupted us?" Hal had had a couple of ideas, but there was no way he could be right.

Ranger grimaced. "I wasn't." He shrugged. "I was jealous."

Oookay. Maybe I'd been dropped into an alternate universe when I wasn't looking, because that was Hal's number one theory. Problem was, Ranger didn't do jealous. I was just about to point that out, when he opened his mouth and sent us both even further into bizarro-world.

"If you're free, would you go out with me tonight?"

"Like how?" I asked as I tried to run through all of the reasons Ranger usually needed to see me in my head. There were no big bond FTAs right now, so RangeMan didn't need me for a last minute distraction. Besides, Tank handled all of my work assignments. And even though I'd worn out two shower massagers since I started seeing Ranger almost daily at work, I'd promised myself there would be no booty calls. My heart and sanity just couldn't handle casual sex with Ranger.

He reached out and tucked a curl behind my ear. "Like dinner. Maybe some dancing."

"That sounds an awful lot like a date." I tried to stamp down on the sliver of hope that rose inside me.

The corners of his lips lifted slightly as he nodded. "If I had my way, we'd go on a lot of them."

My eyebrows flew upward. "You want to date me? As in a relationship?" I asked suspiciously. "You made it pretty clear that you don't do relationships," I blurted out. Inside I cringed, because even to my ears, I sounded a little whiny.

Ranger sighed again, which was so unlike him, I wondered if I'd broken him. "We're already in a relationship, Babe."

"We are?" Sure, we spent most Sundays together and we met for dinner up on the Seventh floor at least once a week, but that's what friends did, right? A relationship implied feelings. Mutual feelings, that is.

He nodded. "Tank's convinced we are, and I'm inclined to agree, on account of how I felt when I thought you were out with another man."

"You were jealous," I said slowly. I was still flummoxed by the revelation that we were in a relationship. Why hadn't anyone ever clued me in, if we were?

Ranger's lips twitched slightly. "Homicidally jealous." Then he sobered abruptly. "The thing is, I'm not sure I can give you everything you need. Everything you deserve."

Ever since he'd shown up at my door that morning, Ranger's thoughts weren't hidden behind a blank mask. He was… nervous, hopeful, and a little sad. And the look I saw in his melted chocolate eyes shook me to my core. Could he really love me? And if he did, what was I going to do about it?

Mary Lou's words from my birthday lunch came back to me. _What would I do for love?_ And in a flash, I realized that barring him wanting to lock me up in a safe house somewhere, I would do just about anything. For us.

I put down my half-eaten donut and stood. "What do you think I deserve?" I asked quietly as I rounded the table to close the few feet that separated us.

"You deserve everything." Ranger swallowed convulsively and I had to stop myself from tracing the movement with the tip of my finger. "A home. A husband who loves you. A family"

I leaned down until my lips brushed his ear. "It sounds like you've thought about this a lot," I breathed. He shivered as my breath fanned his cheek and inwardly, I cheered. Why had I ever thought he wasn't affected by me? "I've been thinking a lot, too, Ranger."

I braced my foot against the lower rung of his chair and pushed. To my surprise, his chair slid smoothly back from the table, and in a flash, I was straddling him. "Uh, uh," I chided when his arms began to close around me. "Keep your hands to yourself, or I'll go back to my side of the table."

I smiled as I stared into his eyes. They were pitch black with desire, but instead of taking control like I'd expected, he obediently wrapped both hands around the edge of the seat. "You're right. Everyone deserves those things," I agreed. "If they want it. But the thing is, you never asked what I wanted, Ranger."

"And that makes me an idiot." Ranger closed his eyes, briefly. "What do you want, Babe?

I smiled. "I'm so glad you asked. I know I don't want to be a stay at home wife," I said slowly. "And the thought of kids still makes my eye twitch." We both chuckled. I took a deep breath. "So… If we decided to disregard the no-fraternization agreement…"

Ranger grinned. "RangeMan doesn't actually have a non-fraternization policy." He shrugged. "It's never been necessary."

Since Ella and I were the only female employees and none of the other RangeMen were Hector's type, I guess that made sense. But that was beside the point. "So, if we're in a relationship… how would that work?"

Ranger grinned back. "Why don't you tell me, Babe? I have to say I'm liking this take-charge attitude of yours." He rolled his hips upward so that I could feel just how much he liked my directing the conversation.

I smiled. "Wanna negotiate?" Usually we just negotiated which movie to watch, or whether or not we ate real food instead of bark and twigs, but I could already see the erotic possibilities for this particular game. "I really just want and need someone to support my choices and to back me up. I just want to spend time with someone I love, who loves me back and won't cheat on me," I began. I looked him straight in the eye. "Could you handle that?"

"It sounds pretty simple, put that way." Ranger said, his voice low and thoughtful.

"But pretty hard to deliver on," I said, thinking about my and Joe's train wreck of a relationship.

"Not from where I'm sitting." Ranger reached up to caress my cheek. "I will always back you up, and I can't imagine ever loving or wanting another woman like I do you."

I sent him a mock glare. "What did I tell you about keeping your hands to yourself, Mister?" He chuckled and dropped his hand back to his side. "Just so I'm clear… You love me and agree to be faithful?" When he nodded, I grinned. "OK, I'm in." I started to lower my lips to his, but he stopped me.

"I don't think we've had complete disclosure yet, Babe." He took a deep breath. "I have enemies that wouldn't hesitate to take you out just to mess with me."

"It's happened," I agreed, remembering Scrog, Orrin and Vlatko. "But do I have to remind you that my enemies are local and even crazier?" I shrugged. "How many times have I broken you or one of the Merry Men? Or you've had to ride in to save me? I don't see you dropping me over it."

Ranger nodded. "I wouldn't. Ever." He took a deep breath. "But you're also forgetting that I could go in the wind tomorrow."

_And maybe never come back_. "I know you still do missions." I smiled crookedly. "And you won't ever be able to tell me where you're going, and whether you're overthrowing a third world country or rescuing an ambassador's cat from a tree." We both grinned. "The thing is it doesn't matter if we're together or not – I'll still miss you and worry when you're gone." I swallowed, hard. "Take as many missions as you need to. I'll still be here." I kissed the tip of his nose. "Though, if we do this relationship thing, you'll get all the welcome back nookie you can handle."

Ranger chuckled. "You've got me there, Babe. I can't say no to welcome home sex." He studied me for another long minute, his expression solemn. "You don't know what kind of man I am. I've done way too much bad shit in my life."

"I know exactly what kind of man you are." I took a deep breath and prayed silently for the guts to finish. "And I love you. I've watched you for years, and how you treat me and your men, and I've seen what you were willing to do keep me safe." I held his gaze, willing him to understand what I was trying to say. "Especially during the Abruzzi mess. You'll never be able to convince me you aren't a good man." It probably wasn't the same, but I'd killed too. The fact that they were trying to kill me at the time didn't really lessen the guilt. Ranger may have his own moral code, but it was more solid than mine and most of the Trenton PD's.

He took a deep shuddering breath, and pulled me close. "Put that way, I can't think of any other reasons to stay away. " His mouth covered mine, a soft, lingering press of the lips. For once his kiss wasn't meant to send me up in flames – instead it was simply to say I'm here, are you with me?

"I'm a selfish bastard to say this, but I love you, Stephanie. No qualifiers."

I pulled back slightly, and studied him with narrowed eyes. "So you're done with that whole 'my life doesn't lend itself to relationships crap?"

He smiled softly. "I'm yours if you want me." His eyes narrowed in challenge. "I won't do any of that on/off shit, and if Joe, Hal or anyone else poaches…"

_The poor bastard would wake up in a third world country_, I finished silently. From his answering chuckle, either Ranger's ESP was fully functional or I'd just said that out loud. I nodded, and just breathed him in for several long minutes. The knowledge that I wouldn't have to let go – ever again, almost floored me. But I still didn't have a clue how this would work.

"If we're going to do this," I began hesitantly, "we'll have to actually talk sometimes. _You'll_ have to talk."

"Babe."

I suppressed a groan. "That's what I was talking about – I need more than 'Babe', Ranger." I told him, lowering my voice to mimic his. "I get it, there's a lot you can't tell me about your past, but your favorite movie, or the name of your third grade teacher aren't state secrets, are they? And this is big – if I'm doing something that drives you crazy, you'll have to talk to me and not just throw me in a safe house."

"Dumb and Dumber." He grinned at my disgruntled expression. "My favorite movie." He pressed a kiss into my curls. "With my training, I've gotten used to treating everything like it was need-to-know."

"But if it's not classified…." I began.

"I'll try. You ask, I'll answer." His expression grew solemn. "I want the same deal – if we have a problem, don't shut me out and run away."

I winced. After all of my breakups with Joe, my go-to defense mechanism was hardly a secret. "If I do, you have my permission to come after me."

I knew we still had things to work out, but this conversation was getting way too heavy – and it had been way too long since I'd had a social orgasm. "Since we're negotiating," I said as I began to unbutton his shirt. "I'll cut back, but I refuse to give up Pino's and the Tasty Pastry." I paused. "And I demand sex at least once a day."

"They'd probably go out of business without you, Babe." Ranger shuddered as I traced the ridges of his eight pack. "I don't think loving you _twice_ a day will be enough for me, but we can work that out as we go along," he finished as he kissed along my neck, his stubble tickling me. I'd have a bad case of beard burn in the morning, but I really didn't care as long as…

"Don't stop," I moaned as he pulled my camisole over my head. "My Mom's still trying to set me up, so we'll have to have dinner at my parents' soon."

"Babe, I've faced terrorist cells less scary than your mother and grandmother." His breath grew labored as I flicked his right nipple with my thumbnail. "But I can take one for the team, sometimes." He skimmed his lips over the curve of my breast. "You'll have to carry your gun, even off-duty."

"I already do. Hal promised to cook dinner for a year if I carried." I gasped as his lips closed over my nipple.

"Remind me to give him a raise." Ranger kissed his way up my chest and neck until we were eye to eye. "You've really blown me away these last few months. I'm so proud of you, Babe."

Those words turned my insides to goo like usual, but it had been way too long since I'd been intimate with an actual human. It was time to wrap up this up.

"No safe houses." I said as I tossed his dress shirt to the floor.

"Fine." His eyes slid closed and his breath hitched as I licked my way down his chest to his abs. "Babe, if I promise to talk later, can we table this for now?"

My grin turned devilish. "Just one more thing – what should I call you? Ranger? Ricardo?" Hmmm…neither sounder quite right. "Carlos?"

His eyes went pitch black with lust. "Say that again," he demanded as he pushed me to my feet and worked my yoga pants and panties down over my hips. He slid to his knees skimmed his lips over the curve of my hip.

"Carlos, Carrrlos," I teased, rolling my r's. "Carlos!" It came out as a breathless moan when his tongue parted my folds and danced along my clit.

"Oh yeah," he said huskily as he stood and scooped me up into his arms. "Feel free to scream that as much as you like."

He took the stairs to my bedroom, two at a time, and we landed on my bed, in a tangle of limbs. "So, we're going to do this?" I asked, giggling breathlessly.

Ranger – Carlos smiled as he fished a condom out of his cargoes. "We are and it's going to be good, Babe."

And boy, was it ever good. And yes, I did scream his name. A lot.

R&S~R&S~R&S

"God, I needed that," I said much later as he pressed a line of nibbling kisses over my neck and shoulders.

He chuckled. "I thought we agreed you were going to call me Carlos, Babe."

I whapped him on the chest. "Don't get a swelled, head, Mister." But then he did something with his tongue that was probably illegal in all fifty states. "OK," I moaned. "I'll give you about a year to stop that."

"How did we manage to keep our hands off each other for so long?" He asked as he pulled me close.

I settled myself into the circle of his arms. "Don't know, but I could get used to this." In fact, I was all for cuffing him to the bed if he tried to move anytime soon.

"And I'll let you, as long as I get a turn, too." A wolfish grin spread over his face. "You have a shower rod in this place, right?"

I buried my face in his neck. "I said that aloud, didn't I?" I really needed to stop doing that. But then my brain caught up with the rest of his words. Back when Ranger and I had first met, and Joe was my FTA, Morelli had broken into my apartment. Sure, I'd 'borrowed' his truck, but I'd thought leaving me naked and cuffed to my shower rod had been a little excessive. Luckily, Ranger had saved me. "Hmmm. I always wondered what would've happened if you hadn't been such a gentleman."

Carlos' eyes went dark and hungry. "I could think of a few different endings." He nipped at my earlobe. "I have about four years' worth of fantasies I wouldn't mind fulfilling, starting right now."

Oh boy. So did I. I hooked one leg around his, and had him on his back in a flash. "Well, I'm all yours until 0800 tomorrow," I told him as I straddled his hips.

His eyes never left mine as he reached over and grabbed his phone from my bedside table. He punched a speed dial button and waited for the call to connect. "Steph and I are off-line until further notice." He disconnected, but not before I heard the unmistakable sound of Tank's laughter.

Ranger grinned. "Tank says hi."

I rolled my eyes. "You know he's never going to let either of us live this down, right?"

He chuckled again. Relaxed, happy Ranger was a little strange, but good. Maybe I was finally meeting Carlos. "I don't care. I just don't want to let you go, anytime soon."

Was it possible to go up in flames and melt into a puddle of goo at the same time? "You've got me." I smiled as I slid my palm down his body, until I gripped him my hand, lightly stroking the length of his cock. "Keep talking like that, and you're going to get really lucky."


	11. Chapter 10

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.**

AN: Sorry for the delay in posting – work and life have been super busy. I'm going to try to wrap this up in two more chapters.

Many thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed, it means a lot to me.

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><p>Chapter 10<p>

Building a life….

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><p><em>Previously: I rolled my eyes. "You know he's never going to let either of us live this down, right?" <em>

_He chuckled again. Relaxed, happy Ranger was a little strange, but good. Maybe I was finally meeting Carlos. "I don't care. I just don't want to let you go, anytime soon."_

_Was it possible to go up in flames and melt into a puddle of goo at the same time? "You've got me." I smiled as I slid my palm down his body, until I gripped him my hand, lightly stroking the length of his cock. "Keep talking like that, and you're going to get really lucky."_

I woke to the feeling of lips on the back of my neck and a hand sliding slowly from my breast down the length of my body. To say that mornings had gotten a lot more pleasant in the four months since Ranger and I had started dating would be putting it pretty mildly. Sometimes I woke up in my bed, and sometimes, like today, I woke in his apartment at RangeMan, but I rarely woke alone these days.

Since half the fun was in seeing just how he'd decide to wake me up, I kept my eyes closed. I struggled to keep my breathing even and deep as the slightly calloused tips of Ranger's – Carlos's – fingers ghosted over my ribcage and the expanse of my stomach, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. But just before reaching the Promised Land, those magic fingers skated around to my outer thigh.

I swallowed a huff of annoyance and felt Ranger's lips curve against the nape of my neck. "Stop pretending to be asleep, Babe, and maybe I'll give you what you need."

_God, he was a cocky bastard, but that was part of his charm. _I turned swiftly in his arms and had him on his back in an instant. "Give me? Did you just seriously say that?" I groused as I stared down into his laughing brown eyes. I slid my hand between us until I found him, hard and ready for me. "I have a better idea." I smiled wickedly as I lined us up and slowly took the length of his cock inside me. "Why don't you just lie back and I'll _take_ what we both need?"

"_Dios."_ His eyes went pitch black with desire as I began to move. "I love it when you get all feisty," he growled as his hands gripped my hips.

It was a long time before we spoke again, and despite what I'd told him, Carlos didn't just lie back and think of England. Instead, we both gave each other exactly what we both wanted and needed. After my second doomsday orgasm, I finally collapsed against his chest as I tried to catch my breath.

"Well, that was my morning cardio," I murmured as I pressed a lazy kiss onto the curve of his shoulder. His chest shook in silent laughter as he wrapped both arms around me and rolled until our positions were reversed.

"Hey! I was just getting comf..." My protest ended in a helpless squeak as his lips closed around my nipple, and I gasped as he parted my legs with one knee and settled into the cradle of my thighs. "Jeez, you're not human," I moaned as I felt him, hard and ready for round two. Don't get me wrong, though. I definitely wasn't complaining about Carlos' nonexistent recovery time.

Ranger released my nipple with a pop and began to kiss his way back up to my lips. "Quarterly fitness evals are coming up, so we need all the cardio we can get," he whispered against my lips.

I huffed out a laugh. "I love the way you think." Morning sex with Ranger definitely beat an hour on the treadmill. But, since this is my life, his phone rang just before things got really good, and it wasn't the normal ringtone, either.

With a curse, he rolled off me and grabbed his phone off the nightstand. "Sir. When?" Ranger listened for several more moments. "Understood. I'll be there." He hung up. "_Joda me!_"

Thanks to Lester and Hector, my Spanish now extended to all of the good curse words, and _Fuck me _pretty much summed it up – figuratively, not literally, unfortunately. Judging by Ranger's thunderous expression and rapidly deflating manhood, our morning cardio was cancelled.

Ranger dropped his phone on the bed. "That was my handler. I have to leave for DC in half an hour."

"Oh." That was surreal. In the past, he'd just told me he was going out of town and dragged me behind the bonds office for a little goodbye tonsil hockey. "Do you need me to do anything?"

Ranger's lips crashed down on mine. The kiss was hot, hungry and so intense black dots danced in front of my eyes. I wondered briefly if we had time for a quickie.

"I'd like you to stay here." He told me when we finally broke apart.

Dazed, I shook my head. "Ranger…." He silenced me with another kiss.

"I like the idea of you in my bed. Our bed. Please."

"Damn it, why do you have to bring out the big guns?" I complained, still trying to catch my breath.

Ranger chuckled and pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

"Fine. I will, sometimes, but only because I sort of like you." I said, grinning back. It'd be weird sleeping on Seven without him, but it was kind of sweet that he wanted me here. And that he considered it our bed? Hot, but scary.

Ranger studied me for one long moment, his expression solemn. "I'm headed south for an ex-fil. I should only be gone for two, three weeks at the most."

I gaped at him. "Should you be telling that?" _I was pretty sure I hadn't gotten top-secret clearance in the last twelve hours or so._

He chuckled and dropped a kiss onto the top of my head. "Top secret clearance or not, you're the woman I love. I'd tell you everything, if I could." With one last kiss, he rolled out of bed.

Wow. Was it possible to want to sob out loud and squeal like a little girl at the same time? But, since our time was short, I did the only thing I could do. I took a minute to admire the view as he disappeared into the bathroom, and then shrugged on a robe as I stumbled into the kitchen.

Ten minutes later, he was showered and dressed in his ACUs – which is my third favorite look, right behind sweaty naked Ranger and business Ranger. A couple of minutes after that, he was grabbing his go bag from the closet. And five minutes after that, he was eating the whole wheat bagel I'd hastily toasted and slathered with fat-free cream cheese.

At the twenty-nine minute mark, I was kissing him goodbye. "Don't get shot!"

Ranger grinned and saluted me with the travel mug of coffee I'd just handed him. "And don't go crazy, Babe." I suppressed a grin as he headed toward the stairs. Sure, Ranger had actually told me where he was going, and I'd sent him off with breakfast and a kiss, but it was good to see that some things never changed.

R&S~R&S~R&S

Ranger went into the wind at 7 AM on a Friday in July, and since it was a work day for me, I pulled on my big girl panties, got dressed and met Hal in the garage just before 8 AM. I normally would rather roll in garbage than spend any length of time on stakeout, but the four hours we spent watching Moogie Busey's house gave me some much needed time for reflection.

Before my last birthday, I'd always thought that life was something that just happened – and that it was a package deal kind of thing. Exploding cars and crazy skips automatically came with the bounty hunting gig – just like a marriage license came with a minivan, 2.5 kids and a PTA membership.

But, I'd come to realize that life was really something that you built – one piece at a time. So my job sucked and I didn't like rolling in garbage, or the exploding cars? The solution was so simple. Of course, getting trained had been a lot of work – just ask every RangeMan who'd helped me meet standards – but it'd been worth it. I hadn't been kidnapped or blown up anything in months, and I was actually good at my job, now. My personal life was a train wreck? Again, I was an adult and could do something about it. Letting Joe go had been painful, but we were both better off, now.

All in all, I'd come to realize that Denial Land wasn't my friend and that change wasn't just something you put in your pocket. And because of the changes I'd made, I was happy with the life I'd built. I had a job I was proud of, a partner that was like a brother to me, and Rex and I were finally living in a place that wasn't a dump. And best of all, those changes meant I was finally ready for the one thing I'd always secretly wanted: a life with Ranger.

I hadn't exactly planned on being in a relationship with Ranger, but it was both more and less than what I'd expected – more romance and less drama, that is. Ranger was a hot-as-hell badass who probably knew six ways to take out a man with a paperclip, but Carlos had four older sisters who called him 'Ricky', and he liked to cuddle on the couch after dinner.

I was totally in love with both aspects of my man, and it wasn't just because he took me dancing, or stocked Ben and Jerry's in his freezer. It was a million little things – like how he kissed me awake every morning, and spent every Sunday off-line with me. Heck, we'd even had dinner with Hal and Lisa a couple of times. Yeah, I know. Ranger double dating is probably a sign of the apocalypse.

Of course, we didn't always see eye to eye, especially when it came to diet and matters of personal safety - meaning I still loved the occasional TastyKake and refused to let Ranger shut me up in a safe house. But true to our promises to each other, I didn't run at the first sign of trouble and Ranger actually talked sometimes.

We hadn't put a label on what we were yet, but it felt like we were building something real – with every morning we woke together, with every work shift, and with every time we backed each other up.

Like when my mom had invited over yet another matrimonial prospect for dinner, just after Ranger and I had started dating. Normally, it was just annoying, but when my boyfriend was sitting at the same table? Talk about awkward.

_"__I can't believe you invited Booger Sandowsky over to dinner!" I hissed as I helped her dish out dessert. Yes, she really did try to set me up with someone who used to pick their nose in third grade, and yes I'd still stuck around for dinner. What can I say – she'd made lasagna and pineapple upside down cake. Besides, Booger had taken one look at Ranger and remembered an urgent thing he had to do, somewhere._

_"_Richard_ has a good job managing the button factory," she informed me, emphasizing Booger's given name. "And I have it on good authority that he's looking for a wife since his mother passed, may God rest her soul. Not that you have a chance with him now."_

_I shuddered. "I'm doing just fine on the relationship front, Ma." And even if I weren't dating the sexiest man in the tri-state area, there's no way I'd ever date someone who was looking for a mommy substitute. I sighed. "You know Ranger and I are dating now."_

_"__I know you don't have a ring on your finger," she scoffed. "And if you stay with that man, you never will." She jerked open the freezer door and took out the ice cream. "You're not getting any younger, so it's time you stopped wasting your life at that ridiculous job. No man will marry you if you keep chasing criminals and blowing up cars!"_

_"__I have the life I want, and _that man_ is the best man I've ever met," I ground out. If she said one more word about Ranger, we were so out of there. After I'd liberated the rest of the cake. But before I could commit Grand Theft Pastry, I felt Ranger's hands settle on my shoulders._

_"__Stephanie is brilliant at that ridiculous job," he said calmly as he drew me to him. He was warm and solid along my back and I had to fight the urge to melt against him. _

_"__But it's not the sort of life she deserves, or one to be proud of," my mom said with a burg-worthy eye roll._

_"__Your daughter keeps dangerous criminals off the street, and I'm proud of her." He took a step forward, but still kept me tucked firmly against his side. "I'm only going to say this once, because you're important to Stephanie. I love Stephanie, and I always protect those I love," he said softly, in a cold, hard voice of his that was usually reserved for skips and RangeMen who came to work hung over. "I never want to hear you speak to her like that again. Do you understand me?"_

_"__Well I never!" Mom must've been hitting the Jim Beam pretty hard because any sane, sober person would've known the correct response to Ranger's question was 'yes, Sir.' "You may think you love her, but I know I do," she sniped. "And I won't stand by and watch her throw away her life."_

_Just a few months ago, I would've been crying or screaming at that point, but with Ranger at my back I felt an almost preternatural sense of calm settle over me. I was OK the way I was. I loved my family, but right there in my mother's kitchen, I realized that I didn't need their approval. And in the next instant, I forgave my mom and Valerie for not extending it to me. They just didn't understand me, anymore than I understood their need to iron underwear or keep the perfect house._

_"__Thanks for dinner, but we need to go, now," I told her, suddenly feeling about a thousand years old. What can I say? Epiphanies always take a lot out of me. _

_I took a deep breath. "You may be embarrassed by me, Ma, but I'm proud of my job and the man I've chosen to love." I shook my head sadly, even as I began to turn toward the door. "You may want the best for me, but ask yourself if Stella Mancini's mother would say the things you've said to me tonight. You owe Carlos an apology, by the way."_

I'd left the kitchen without another word, and Ranger met me at the door a couple of minutes later, just as I was hugging Grandma goodbye. I'll never know what he said to my mom, but she sent ten dozen chocolate chip cookies to RangeMan the next day and actually called us both to apologize. I will admit that I'm a still a little afraid to have dinner at my parents', but it's not because she's been nasty to us. In fact, she's been so supportive over the last couple of months, I'm starting to think she's been replaced by a pod person. But pod person or not, I was pretty damn happy with my life as it was.

My reverie was broken when our skip drove up halfway through our shift. Hal called it into the control room, and then motioned for me to take lead as we made our way up the driveway. He had his head stuck in the trunk, so he was pretty easy to sneak up on.

"Moogie Busey?" I unstrapped my stun gun from my utility belt and nodded to Hal.

"Yeah, who's asking?" He spun around and I could tell the second he realized who we were.

Hal flanked him discreetly while I began my usually spiel. "We represent your bonds agent, and you're in violation of your –" Moogie feinted left and I intercepted, taking him down with a strike to his knee. I followed him down and planted my knee in the small of his back. "Your bond agreement," I continued while Hal cuffed him. We both took an arm and hauled him to his feet. "If you'd step right this way, we'll be glad to help you reschedule your court date."

He came up sputtering. "This is police brutality! I'm completely innocent."

Hal and I shared a long look behind his back. Moogie's rap sheet was longer than my arm, with his latest foray on the wrong side of the law involving an illegal midget vs. pit bull fighting ring. Don't ask.

"Wow, I'd feel really bad about this," I told him as we pointed him toward the SUV. "If we actually were the cops."

We made it to the cop shop a few minutes later, and for once the drop off went quickly since we didn't know anyone at the desk. Eddie and Carl were out on patrol and Joe was on his honeymoon, and I wasn't sure where Big Dog was.

When we got back to the SUV, a thought occurred to me. "Hey wasn't it your turn to take point?"

"Eh, I figured you needed it more." Hal grinned as he turned into the Dairy Queen down the street from Police department. "And here's step two of the patented Jorgenson cheer up plan. Ice cream."

I socked him lightly on the arm. "You know, Lisa's a lucky woman." Hal's methods were a little unorthodox, but they worked. I still missed Carlos, but I did feel a lot more cheerful.

And that's how the next few weeks went. Hal and I hauled in half a dozen more skips, signed several new clients, and took over more monitor shifts than we really wanted to on account a mini-flu epidemic that hit Trenton in late July. And though exercise wasn't nearly as much fun without Carlos to, er, help, I still passed my quarterly fitness test at a very respectable 75 percent.

On my off hours, I hung out with Hal and the guys and as Ranger's absence stretched into week three, I found myself spending more and more nights at Haywood. If Ranger needed to imagine me in his bed, I needed to be in it even more. Hugging his pillow was a poor substitute, but I slept better when I was surrounded by the lingering scent of Bvlgari and Ranger.

And in retrospect, it was a good thing I was already at Haywood when Tank called me just after 3AM on a balmy night in early August. I was still half asleep when I answered the phone, but his next words had me pulling on the first pair of pants that I could find and rushing for the door.

Ranger was back, and he needed me.

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><p>AN: Next up, Ranger's POV<p> 


	12. Chapter 11

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.**

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><p>Chapter 11:<p>

Making a life

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><p>Previously: <em>And in retrospect, it was a good thing I was already at Haywood when Tank called me just after 3AM on a balmy night in early August. I was still half asleep when I answered the phone, but his next words had me pulling on the first pair of pants that I could find and rushing for the door.<em>

_Ranger was back, and he needed me._

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><p>Ranger's POV<p>

Right cross. Left cross. Jab. Jab. Right. Left. Jab. Jab.

The steady rhythm of my fists landing on the heavy bag helped me finally take my mind to that quiet, dark place I'd craved. And if I felt the dull thud of each impact travel up my arms, or the sharp sting as the flesh on my knuckles began to split, well it was nothing less than I deserved.

It'd been two weeks, 2 days and twenty hours since I'd kissed my Babe goodbye and hopped on a chopper headed for DC, and almost ten days since an already messed up mission went FUBAR. Fucked up beyond all recognition.

I'd arrived back at the Haywood building just after 0200 hours, but there was no way I could go home, yet. When I'd stopped on the fifth floor and demanded an update from the shift supervisor it had hit me that as welcome a sight as RangeMan was, it was just a building. My home wasn't located two floors above our heads.

At some point in the last few months, or maybe even years, my real home had become a certain curly haired Jersey girl with big blue eyes, and an even bigger attitude. The fact that she was finally mine and asleep upstairs in our bed made me want to beat on my chest, but there was no way I could just crawl in next to her. Not yet. Maybe never. Not until I could forget the sight of children lying on the ground like just so many discarded toys.

I'd completed my objective, and delivered the people I was supposed to back stateside, for all the fucking good it did. And then I'd sat through three days of exit interviews and debriefings. Meetings where I repeated the mission details over and over to a never ending series of faceless government bureaucrats. Where I reduced the smell of the jungle and the screams of civilians to a concise list of facts – times, dates, and number of casualties – that could be recorded in a classified report, and then promptly buried under a pile of red tape so high it'd be like the mission had never existed.

But I'd remember. If I were a different sort of man, I'd hole up somewhere with a bottle for as long as it took me to forget. If I were a more selfish man, I go straight upstairs and try to bury myself so deep inside my woman that the memories would never find me. But I have a business to run and I never want this darkness inside of me to touch Stephanie. She deserved better. So, instead, I was in the gym at RangeMan, beating the shit out of a punching bag until I either collapsed in exhaustion or my hands became so crippled that I can't go on.

For god knows how long, the only sound in the room was the rasp of my breath and dull thud of my fists striking padded leather. But then, slowly, a voice penetrated the fog in my head. It was soft and insistent, and each long- voweled, Jersey-accented syllable drew me out, inch by torturous inch.

"Ranger, look at me," she was saying. "I need to you look at me. I need to know you're OK."

With each entreaty, my punches slowed, and I finally stopped altogether and turned toward her. Stephanie says my 'please' is a lethal weapon, but hearing her say she needs me? I'd burn the world down to the ground and crawl through the ashes if I knew she needed me.

"There you are." Those blue eyes were suspiciously bright, but there was no fear in them as she looked at me.

She approached me slowly, cautiously, giving me plenty of time to draw away, and I silently thanked whoever had told her what to do. My skin felt too tight, with every muscle and sinew like a tightly coiled spring, but I still hungered for her touch. I wasn't at all fit for polite society, but when her touch came, I felt something finally loosen inside me. One soft hand cupped my jaw and the other slid up to caress my cheek.

"I'm glad you're home," she said softly.

And just like that, I _was_ home. I'd promised I wouldn't, and I'm a selfish bastard for what happened next, but I couldn't resist her any more that I could stop breathing. I grasped both of her wrists and hauled her close, sealing my lips to hers with a kiss so hungry it bordered on desperate. And when it ended, I didn't completely break our connection. My lips hovered over hers, our breaths mingling and the faint scents of her toothpaste and shampoo filling my senses. She pulled back first, her eyes searching mine for a long, breathless moment. And then a look of understanding flitted across her beautiful face and she closed the distance between us, the press of her lips gentle against mine.

In that moment, that little girl from the Burg did what a dozen shrinks and bureaucrats and a whole group of terrorists couldn't do. She broke me, and then built me back up with every stroke of her tongue against mine. With every caress of her hands against my face, my back, and my chest.

Our coupling was fast and furious, and it was more luck than skill on my part when she came shuddering against me several moments later. Three strokes later, I followed, crying out as I emptied myself into her. We lay there, staring into each other's eyes as our breathing slowed and our bodies slowly cooled. But still, I didn't speak. I wasn't sure what to say_: I love you? I missed you? Sorry for taking you on the floor of the gym like an animal?_

Babe finally broke the silence, as first a snort and then a giggle burst free from her. She brushed a kiss across my lips. "Now that pretty much beats every workout I've ever had in here."

I couldn't help but chuckle. "Glad to help." I winced slightly as I sat up, every joint protesting as I straightened my clothing, and then went looking for hers. "This isn't how I imagined my homecoming, Babe." I'd meant to stay away. Until I could put myself back together, be the man she deserved again.

Her eyes twinkled as she shimmied into her yoga pants. Her panties were a lost cause, mostly due to me ripping them off of her just before I buried myself in her. "I dunno. It was pretty great for welcome back nookie." She held out her hand. "Let's go upstairs, Carlos."

I took her hand, but cursed softly when I checked the time on the clock above the door. It was almost 0430 hours. The men could've walked in on us at any moment. Regret flooded me as I stopped her at the door. "Thanks for coming after me, but how did you know? Vince? Ram?"

She reached up and kissed the tip of my nose. "No, Tank."

Tank hadn't been on duty when I'd arrived on premises, but I should've known he'd be aware and have my back. The man himself was guarding the door.

"I cleared the floor. Scrambled the cameras," he told us gruffly when we met him in the hallway. He handed over my key fob and civilian cell phone. "You're both offline until further notice."

Babe leaned up and kissed his cheek. "Aw, you're such a big softy."

Tank shook his head. "I'll deny it till the day I die. Now get the hell out of here." He clapped me on the shoulder. "Welcome back, Rangeman."

Thanks to Tank, we didn't meet anyone in the hallway and the elevator rose quickly and smoothly to the seventh floor. Babe ushered me into the apartment, but instead of taking me to bed, she led me into the bathroom.

She pulled out the first aid kit and began to remove the wraps from my hands. When she was finished, she ran her thumb over each split and crack. "It's not too bad. I can take care of it here, or call Bobby?"

"No. Just you." The apartment was quiet and dim in the pre-dawn hours and I wasn't ready for anyone else to intrude. Not yet.

Her hands were gentle but sure as she cleaned and dabbed antibacterial ointment on my cuts and rewrapped them with gauze. My surprise must have shown on my face, because when she finished tucking in the gauze, she sat back on her heels with a grin. "Hey, you're the one who makes first aid training mandatory for field employees."

She stowed the first aid supplies and finally stood. "You hungry? Need a shower?" She made a face. "Forget that. I should've asked that before we wrapped your hands."

I just shook my head and drew her back into the bedroom. The covers were mussed and thrown back and the evidence of her presence in my bed made the caveman in me growl with pleasure. "You stayed."

Instead of rolling her eyes at such an obvious statement, she ducked her head, and blushed. "I slept better here."

And I didn't care if it made me a pussy, but I'd sleep better with her with me, here. She was quiet as we toed off our shoes and undressed, but when we were finally in bed she turned in my arms and asked the question I'd been dreading for the last hour.

"Do you want to talk about it? Can you talk about it?

The answers were Hell no, and not really. "No." She stiffened in my arms slightly, so I sighed and hugged her closer. "But I'll do it anyway." I couldn't tell her everything, but she deserved to know what kind of man was sharing her bed.

"Carlos…" She started to wind her arms around me, but looking into her eyes right then would break me, so I turned her until we were spooning again.

When she tried to turn again, I stopped her. "It has to be like this." I took a deep breath and began. For the first part of the story, I could pretend I was still in DC and recount just the facts. Well, a heavily edited version of events, anyway. A medical mission consisting of the head of surgery at a big name teaching hospital, a Nobel laureate, and a Senator's wife was taken hostage in a nameless village in an undisclosed South American country.

The US government doesn't officially negotiate with terrorists, so I and a six man team fresh out of Ranger school were unofficially dispatched to recover our people. And I'm sure it wasn't just because the insurgents had snatched the spouse of the chair of Armed Forces appropriations subcommittee.

The first few days of the mission had gone like clockwork. I went straight from Andrews AFP to the Pentagon, got briefed, assembled the team, and then we were boots on the ground less than 48 hours after I kissed my Babe goodbye. Since the intel we'd been given wasn't worth the paper it was written on, it took us another three days to locate the village where the medical team was held.

I'll never know what gave us away, or if we could've even avoided being spotted, but we were barely in position when the first villager was trotted outside and shot. Right in front of us. I've led dozens of missions and had to make a whole lot of fucked up judgment calls, but this situation was one of the worst. How do you weigh one life against another? Who was I to choose who to save? But the US government had trained me to be a soldier, and not a philosopher, so I completed my mission, which was to save the doctors and the Senator's wife.

Three villagers were wounded, and two children died before my men and I were able to take down the captors. But hey, most of the Americans were unharmed, so it was all good, right? We lost one of the nurses on the trip back to the extraction point, but the big shots and Mrs. Senator made it home to their families. I'm not saying I shouldn't have rescued the Americans, but I still can't just reduce the lives of those villagers to collateral damage.

"Maybe it hit me harder this time because they were kids," I said as I finished the story. "One little girl had curly hair…" And blue eyes. And skin just a few shades lighter than mine. She was almost exactly how I imagine mine and Stephanie's child would look.

My arms had gone slack, so Steph turned to face me. There were tears in her eyes. "Carlos…"

I closed my eyes and twisted my head to the side to avoid her touch. "Don't," I whispered, my voice rough even to my own ears. "I don't deserve your tears. I'm not a good man."

She shushed me, and her lips ghosted over my cheeks, kissing away tears I hadn't even been aware of. "I don't pity you," she said softly.

My eyes flew open in surprise, and I found myself nose to nose with Stephanie. Her eyes were still suspiciously moist, but determination burned from those crystal blue orbs. "You may think different. But I see you, and I know you're a good man."

"Babe…" She deserved a much better man. "I let those kids be killed."

"I used to drive myself crazy with what ifs. If I'd gotten the goods on Ramirez first, Lula wouldn't have been raped. If I'd stopped Cone sooner…" She shook her head. "I know it's not exactly the same, but I'm going to remind you of something you said once, and that my friend Eddie said, too." She pulled back again so that she could look me right in the eye. "The only ones responsible for those kids' deaths are the men who pulled the trigger."

"Babe…" Maybe she had a point, but they were still dead on my watch. Their deaths were yet another black mark against me.

"Ranger…" She silenced me with a finger to my lips. "You did not kill those kids, but you did save the lives of the hostages and every other villager being held." Her lips quirked up slightly. "I bet you even got your men out of there in one piece."

I shrugged. "McGee got grazed. Left arm."

She chuckled. "At least it wasn't his gun hand, right? He probably didn't even need a band aid." She sobered abruptly. "I know I wasn't there, but you did your job and I'm proud of you."

_I was glad one of us was._ Maybe Babe was rubbing off on me and I'd said that aloud, because she just shook her head again.

"I wish I knew how to say this better, but you've sacrificed so much to keep everyone safe, and I _am _proud of you." She leaned up and kissed me gently on the lips. "And no matter what, I'll love you till the day I die. Got that soldier?"

"Babe…" That was exactly the right thing to say. Looking back, that was the moment I truly let her all the way in. She'd heard the worst, and I believed her when she said she still loved me. "I don't deserve you," I whispered against her lips. And then I closed the final millimeters that separated us and tried to pour every ounce of love and gratitude that I was feeling into my kiss. Maybe I didn't deserve her, but I was done fighting it. She had me for as long as she wanted me. Hell, who was I kidding? She'd have a hard time getting rid of me now.

When we separated, she giggled softly. "You say that now, but just wait until I'm PMSing next month. You know how I get."

I couldn't help but grin as I rolled over onto my back and pulled her against me. "I'll just stock up on chocolate."

Babe yawned and laid her head on my shoulder. "Don't forget the ice cream," she mumbled.

R&S~R&S~R&S

Stephanie drifted off to sleep shortly after that, but even though I'd barely slept since I'd left her, I lay awake for a long time, just listening to her breathe and marveling at this small woman who loved me. A couple hours before, I was trying to convince myself to let her go, but now I felt lighter and freer that I had in years. Intellectually, I knew that Stephanie Plum couldn't fight my battles for me. No one could save me but me, but she made me actually want to stand up and fight my own demons.

She'd surprised me with her acceptance, but I should be used to that by now. Babe never failed to surprise me, and she never disappointed. When we first met, I'd never expected her to last as a bounty hunter, but she was still on the job five years later. And the way she'd taken charge of her life and asked for training still blew me away. She'd grown so much over the last year, and it wasn't because Morelli had berated her, or I'd forced her to. She'd applied herself and become an integral part of RangeMan.

And at some point, she'd become an integral part of my life, too. She rocked my world every single night, and then turned around and made me laugh every morning. She was trained, and fit, and had proven time and again that she was a real partner to me. And more importantly, she no longer chafed at all of the security measures my life forced upon her. Well, not much, anyway.

I had Jorgenson to thank for that. He'd laid down the law during the Moreno fiasco and finally gotten her to see that her life was important, and how her actions affected everyone else. And then he'd done something I'd never been able to do. He'd gotten her to give up that drafty, unsecure apartment that even my three year old niece could break into.

And she'd taken steps on her own to make sure no one knew where she'd moved to. Her mail gets delivered to a PO box, and the guys are still laughing at the new address on her driver's license. It's the same vacant lot I use for my official address, and I have to admit that I like it. I still haven't convinced her to move in with me, but at least we're living together according to the DMV.

And she'd done more than just fit into my life. Somehow, she'd expanded my world beyond its rigid confines. I hadn't taken time off in years before that first lazy Sunday at my apartment – and certainly not for anything as frivolous as watching a movie with a friend. I had a family that loved me, a building full of men that would follow me into Hell, and as much as it pains me to admit it now, plenty of women I could call for sex when I wanted it. Not that I'd wanted anyone but Babe for a long time. But I'd never known a woman like Stephanie, who didn't give a damn about my money or how she'd look on my arm. She'd just wanted me for my own sake, as a friend and a lover.

Stephanie drove me crazy half the time, calmed and centered me the rest of the time, and never failed to make me smile. She soothed me just by being there, but never failed to call me on my shit.

My life didn't lead itself to relationships? Maybe it didn't, but for Steph, I was willing to take the risk. And when I'd opened myself up to her, I'd rediscovered a whole host of other relationships that I'd been missing out on. With Stephanie at my side, I'd shown up for Easter dinner at my parents' for the first time in years. And maybe it's wrong to use your girlfriend as a buffer, but seeing my family through her eyes made me appreciate them more. And after the second dinner with my family, my mom had threatened to smack me upside the head if I ever let Stephanie go. I may be Marisol Mañoso's baby boy, but Stephanie had won her over the first time she moaned her way through two slices of mama's Tres Leches cake.

And when Stephanie had seen me watching her nieces with a wistful expression on my face when we'd taken them to the park a few months ago, she'd somehow known what I was thinking. She'd gently pointed out that the only one stopping me from seeing Julie more was myself, and then she'd not so gently put my phone in my hand and told me to call Rachel to work out more visits. I'd been sure Rachel and Julie would tell me to go to hell, but thanks to Steph, Julie and I Skype weekly now, and I'd visited her twice while I was in Miami this summer.

Somehow, when I wasn't looking, I'd built a life with this girl from the Burg, and it was a pretty damn good one. I still carried two guns and a knife at all times, and I'll never be caught alive in a minivan, but with her at my side, things like family dinners and children don't seem so impossible.

As I lay there, Steph began to stir and mumble and I discreetly checked the time. 0630 - about 48 hours past my bedtime. As I settled her more securely in my arms, I thought ahead to the months and years that stretched in front of me. I had a whole life to look forward to, and I wanted to spend it with my Babe. I smiled as I let myself begin to plan. I needed to check in at the Miami office in the next couple of weeks, and maybe this time I'd ask Stephanie to come with me. We could walk along the beach, take Julie out to lunch. We could even make time to lay out next to the pool at my house in Miami – the one no one but Tank knows about, and the house that Steph would probably call the Bat Cave.

It was time.

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><p>AN: Thanks again for all of the great reviews and encouragement. Sorry to leave the last chapter as a cliffie, but here is Ranger's POV and why Tank got Stephanie out of bed at three in the morning. I think one more chapter will wrap this up, and I hope to have it out in the next few days.<p> 


	13. Epilogue

**Disclaimer: The characters and their world belong to Janet Evanovich. I'm just playing with them for fun, and all mistakes are my own.**

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><p>Epilogue: And they lived….<p>

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><p>My 35th birthday was completely unlike any other birthday I'd ever had, and it wasn't just because I woke up in bed with Ranger. According to weather dot com, the sun was due to rise at 7:06 AM on Monday, October 12, and it promised to be a cool, crisp fall day. I'd just take them at their word because I was too busy enjoying some primo wake up sex to stick my head out of a window and check.<p>

I woke just as Ranger's lips closed around my nipple and moaned as his hand slid from my breast down the length of my body. Maybe it was because I wasn't playing possum, but this time, those magic fingers made it all the way to the Promised Land. I was wet and ready after the first thrust and teetering on the brink of an orgasm after just a few more. And then, just as I was about to go over the edge, he stopped.

"No, no, no! Come back here," I whined as I grabbed frantically at his wrist.

Ranger huffed out a laugh. "Not going to leave you hanging, Babe," he told me as he nudged my knees further apart and entered me with one, smooth stroke.

"Oh, yeah," I breathed as he began to move. Carlos never left me hanging, and he never, ever disappointed. My eyes slid closed as his strokes picked up speed, only to fly open at his next softly voiced command.

"_Míra_, Babe. _Mírame._" _Look at me. _

Before Ranger, a traditional upbringing combined with a large dose of Catholic guilt meant that I was a lights out, eyes closed kind of girl. Don't get me wrong, I liked sex as much as anyone, but Carlos had a way of destroying any remaining boundaries or reservations I'd ever had.

Like now. One entreaty from Carlos and I wasn't worried about any jiggling bits or goofy sex faces. Our gazes locked and the intensity of the emotions that I saw in those dark, liquid eyes rocked me to my core. Naked need. Lust. Tenderness. Love. I shuddered once, twice and then came with a long moan, wondering how I'd ever believed he didn't have feelings. Blank face. Smlank face.

"Happy Birthday to me," I finally slurred out some time later. I was lying in a sweaty, messy heap next to Ranger, and I made a note to myself to do something about that – just as soon as I could feel my legs again.

He chuckled and hauled me in closer, until my head rested on his chest. "Agreed, but that wasn't your present."

"Oh?" My exhaustion fled as I lifted my head. "What did you get me?" I asked as I sat up and looked excitedly around the room. "Where's my cake? Do I smell donuts?" I'd enjoyed the heck out of the Boston Crème he'd left me last year.

He rolled out of bed and headed toward his dressing room. "No donuts for your birthday." He returned a moment later with a medium-sized box wrapped in shiny blue paper. "That stuff'll kill you," he reminded me as he rejoined me in bed.

I sat up against the headboard and leaned against him as I took the box from him. "Hmm… too light to be a taser," I teased as I shook it. Not that I'm complaining – the stun gun he'd given me the year before was still going strong. "And it's too small to be that tactical vest I've always wanted."

Carlos chuckled and dropped a kiss on my temple. "No, but thanks for the Christmas ideas, Babe."

I rolled my eyes. He probably wasn't joking. Since I've never been all that patient, I had the paper ripped off in seconds, and when I lifted the lid I found another, smaller box and a thick-ish folder. "Uh, Carlos?"

He reached in and handed me the folder. "This first."

I flipped it open to the first page, but didn't get any further than the US Army emblem at the top of the page. "Should I really be reading this?" I started to hand it back to him, but the expression on Ranger's face made me pause. He looked hopeful and…. Anxious? Since I couldn't for the life of me imagine what would make Batman nervous, I skimmed over the top page, which had two stamps on the bottom half. The large, red 'Top Secret' I'd expected, but the other stamp had my mouth going bone dry. I swallowed hard. "Contract fulfilled?"

His lips quirked up slightly as he took the folder back and flipped through several pages. "Yeah, Babe. I figured it was time to retire from field ops."

"But you love going into the wind," I protested. The idea that Carlos wouldn't be disappearing to God knows where for weeks and months at a time anymore sent a warm, gooey feeling spreading through me, but I hoped like hell that he wasn't doing this for me. I didn't ever want him to resent me for tying him down.

"I meant it when I said I'd always wait for you," I reminded him.

"I know, but what if I don't want to leave you?" He asked softly. "I'm doing this for us," he continued, proving that either his ESP was working just fine or I'd been thinking out loud again. "One of the main reasons I always said my lifestyle didn't lend itself to relationships was the uncertainty. Any mission could've been my last." And not in the good, 'contract fulfilled' way, either, I knew. He pressed a kiss onto the top of my curls. "I'm ready for someday, Babe."

"Me too," I whispered as I discreetly blinked back tears. As happy as this bit of news made me, I still couldn't let this go, quite yet. "Not that I wouldn't love having you underfoot all of the time…" We both snorted at that. Ranger knew my business better than me, sometimes, but he would never be one to hover like a small, yappy dog. "Won't you miss it? Won't you get bored?"

He flipped through the folder some more and pointed to a page that read 'Contract for Special Consultant'. "I'll still be involved, but just with mission planning and training." A smile played along his lips. "I told the General that I get all the danger I can handle keeping up with you."

"Smartass." I whapped him with a pillow. "I've hardly blown up anything at all lately. Seriously. A couple of torched cars and everyone freaks out."

"Steph." He silenced me with a kiss. "I can't wait to make a life with you."

Wow. Holy ruined panties. Maybe a year ago, the thought of a life with Carlos would've scared me spitless, but now… I wasn't ready for kids and a dog or anything, but I wanted us to be for keeps.

"This is the best birthday present, ever," I told him as I started to straddle him. All I really wanted to do was celebrate, but Carlos had other ideas. He handed me the smaller box, and since shaking it didn't give me any clues, I unwrapped it to find… another box nestled in a bed of tissue. I shot an annoyed look at him, but opened that box to find a tiny, red leather jewelry box. My hands were shaking so badly that Carlos took pity on me and rescued the Cartier box before I dropped it. He flipped open the lid to reveal the most beautiful ring I'd ever seen. The center stone was a large oval sapphire, set in platinum and surrounded by smaller diamonds.

"Babe, I'd planned this differently. I thought I'd ask you on our next trip to Miami, with candlelight, roses, and a view of the water, but I couldn't wait." He shifted to his knees so that he was face-to-face with me. "Stephanie, the day you walked into that diner and turned my world upside down was the luckiest day of my life."

He paused then. "If you don't ever want children, that will be OK with me, and I won't try to lock you in a safe house or chain you to the stove." We both chucked at that. Thanks to Hal and Ella, I could grill a steak or throw together a stir-fry without burning down the building, but I'd never be a domestic goddess. He smiled tenderly at me and held out the ring. "I just want to spend the rest of my life at your side. I love you, Babe. Will you marry me?"

I had to swallow a couple of times before I could get the words out. How could I say no to a proposal like that? "I love you, too," I whispered as I swiped under each eye. "Yes, I'll marry you."

R&S~R&S~R&S

Needless to say, we spent the next little while celebrating, but it was still only just after 8 AM when we finally came up for air. There's something to be said for being in a relationship with an ex-Army Ranger. Carlos really does get more done before 6 AM than most people do all day. As long as he wasn't dragging me out of bed for a ten mile run, I didn't mind the early mornings anymore (or the multiple orgasms). We were showered and more or less dressed for the day when we finally sat down to breakfast. By the way, Carlos is a big faker because there were two beautiful, perfect Boston crèmes waiting for me in the kitchen.

"So, what do you want to do for the rest of the day, Babe?" He asked as he poured coffee for the both of us.

"Huh?" I managed to grab the bagels just as they came out of the toaster, but forgive me for being a little distracted. My ring was extra sparkly in the morning light. I checked the time when he repeated his question. "I don't know about you, but I'm due on shift in a few minutes."

"Babe." I was getting better at interpreting Ranger-speak, so I was pretty sure he meant to say 'I've already called Tank and we're off-line until 0800 tomorrow morning'.

"Well, I guess there are perks to sleeping with the Boss," I teased. As we sat down to eat, I thought about what to do with the day that stretched before us. "We could always go back to bed," I mused. "And then we could call our families with the news, or have them both over for dinner?" Of course, that particular thought almost had me choking on my donut. "Maybe we should hold off on telling my mom for a while." As in never.

"Babe?" Once he knew I was OK, he just sat back with one eyebrow raised, waiting for an explanation.

"I know she's been pretty good, lately," I began. Since that disastrous dinner where she'd tried to set me up with Booger Sandowsky, she'd been almost welcoming to Carlos. At least she only asked if we were getting married every other week, now. "But the second we tell her we're engaged, she'll immediately go into wedding planning mode and try to turn our wedding into a circus." At least that's what had happened to my first wedding, with Val and Mary Lou in ugly pink dresses straight out of 'Gone with the Wind' and three hundred people packed into the VFW hall while my cousin Lazlo's polka band played in the corner. Add in a couple hundred of Carlos' relatives and it would be chaos. "I'm allergic to tulle," I finished. Well, I was at least allergic to the idea of me in a huge, poufy wedding dress.

Carlos rubbed my shoulder soothingly. "We'll have exactly the wedding you want, Stephanie." His expression hardened slightly. "I've got your mother handled."

Ricardo Carlos Mañoso was practically the Helen Plum whisperer, but… "I know you do, but trust me, there'll still be a whole lot of drama." I sighed and finished off my first donut. "To tell the truth, running off somewhere to get married sounds pretty good to me right now."

A thoughtful look came over Carlos's face and before I could even get a good start on my second Boston crème, he was tapping away on his iPad. "United still has seats on the flight out of Newark at 1100 hours. We could be in Las Vegas by early afternoon."

I choked for real this time. "Today?" I squeaked out when I finally got my breath. "As in we fly out to Sin City and get married right now?" It was crazy and completely irresponsible, but the more I thought about it, the more excited I became. "We could find an Elvis impersonator, and he could sing 'Love me Tender' instead of the Wedding March." I got up and hugged him tightly. "That's the best idea ever!" I exclaimed. "Do you think we could get a wedding cake at such short notice?"

Carlos chuckled and tugged me down onto his lap. "I'll take that as a yes, then." He grabbed his phone from the table and pressed a speed dial button. "Yo. Best place to get married in Vegas?" He asked when the call connected. There was a long pause, and then I heard the sound of laughter coming from the handset. "Just answer the question, _idioto_," he growled. "Tonight. Yeah, nice would be good," he said after another pause. And then… "I'm marrying Steph, so what do you think?"

He hung up without another word and dropped a kiss onto my temple. "Santos has it under control. He knows an assistant manager at the Bellagio."

I knew that was one of the nicer casinos, but still, this was Lester Santos we were talking about. "Les knows how to plan a wedding?"

He chuckled again and stood up from the table with me still in his arms. "Santos knows about Vegas weddings. He's been married there two, maybe three, times to the same woman."

I knew there was a story there, but we had a flight to catch in just over two hours. I'd spent the whole weekend at Haywood, but luckily I'd left a few things in Carlos' closet, including a pale blue silk dress I'd bought for a distraction at one of the classier hotels in Newark. Binkie and Zero had ended up catching the skip as he left work that day so it didn't have any creepy FTA cooties. I had shoes to match so I figured the wedding dress was handled.

It was really that easy. Ranger's little misunderstanding with the Las Vegas PD had been cleared up a long time ago, so all we had to do was purchase the plane tickets and pack a couple of overnight bags. He even had a matching set of platinum wedding bands in his safe that he'd bought with my engagement ring.

We made it to the airport with time to spare, and since I was travelling with Batman this time, we magically ended up in the shortest line and made it through security without a hitch. Let me just say that the free champagne they hand out in First Class is really yummy, but Carlos cut me off after just one glass. It was probably for the best because we spent the rest of the flight working out all those little pesky details couples usually decide before the wedding. I'd keep my job at RangeMan, and Rex and I were going to move into the apartment on seven – at least until we could find a house with enough room for a couple of home offices and a room for Julie or my nieces when they visited. I hated leaving Hal in the lurch, but I'd already texted him that I wasn't coming in for a couple of days and that I had big news for him. He and Lisa had been talking marriage, so I figured they'd either want to knock down the wall separating the duplexes or look for a bigger place, anyway.

The rest of the issues were pretty easy to settle. We were in complete agreement about sex and children (as often as possible, and not anytime soon, respectively). I refused my own black Amex card out of hand, but reluctantly agreed to let Carlos replace my rapidly aging car. The Escape had been my trusty steed for over a year, and it deserved a dignified retirement. We both agreed that once a month was more than often enough for dinner with our families.

We landed in Las Vegas around 2 PM and the casino had sent a limo to pick us up and take us to the marriage license bureau. It wasn't until I was getting ready in our suite that I began to have a few itty, bitty second thoughts. Not about marrying Carlos, though. I was one hundred percent sure that I wanted our someday.

"Problem, Babe? I smell something burning," Carlos said as he came up behind me. He drew me to him and peppered kisses along the length of my throat. "_Dios_, you're beautiful."

"Save that for the honeymoon," I admonished as I stared at our reflections in the mirror. The truth was, he was beautiful, dressed in one of his custom-tailored Italian suits. But I'd cleaned up pretty well, too, and I looked _happy._ I met his gaze in the mirror. "I was just wondering how much trouble I'm going to get into for eloping like this, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Let's get married."

He smiled then, a full thousand-watts. "We're doing this, and it's gonna be good, Babe."

And it was good. Imagine my surprise when we found Les, Hal and Hector waiting for us at the ceremony site, though.

"You didn't think I'd let you get married without me?" Hal asked me as he picked me up and swung me around.

"Yeah, we figured you needed witnesses and I happen to be very photogenic," Les said as he took his turn hugging me.

They were both wedding ready in suits, so I figured, what the heck. "You can be my maid of honor," I teased Hal.

Hal blushed. "As long as I don't have to wear a dress, I'd be glad to stand up with you, Steph."

We all laughed at that, and I finally turned to Hector. "You can be our flower girl," I told him as I kissed him on the cheek. Les and Hal choked and promptly found something really interesting to look at on the other side of the courtyard, but I just rolled my eyes at Hector's glare. Sure, he'd scared the bejeezus out of me when we'd first met, but Hec was really just a big softie.

"I'm here to do the Skype," he told me firmly in his heavily accented English. He held up his iPad and I could see that he had a conference call all ready to go.

"Yeah, we're all set to beam the festivities to Casa de Plum, the Bonds office, and Ric's folks in Newark," Les told us as he rejoined me and Hector. "I just texted Julie, and she's standing by, too."

I felt my eyes fill with tears as I looked first at Carlos, and then Lester. I should've known that he'd figure out how to give me everything I'd ever wanted in a wedding. We were in a beautiful courtyard with a lake and fountain in the background, Elvis was waiting for us _and_ my family would still get to watch me get married. Just without half of the Burg waiting for me to trip on the train of my ugly, poufy wedding dress.

Les clapped Carlos on the shoulder as we all went to join the officiant and the photographer. "Tank wanted me to tell you that he has everything under control and that he doesn't want to see either of you for two weeks." Les snickered. "He also said that he expects you to put in for honeymoon leave the full four weeks in advance, next time."

Carlos slapped him lightly on the back of his head. "_Pendejo_, there won't be a next time," he growled.

I had to heartily agree. Carlos was it for me.

And that's the story of how I married the love of my life. Lester really was an excellent wedding planner, because everything was perfect. We were married on my birthday at the Bellagio Hotel in Las Vegas. The fountain played 'Love me Tender' as Elvis pronounced us man and wife and everyone we cared about was either there or watching us on Skype. There was even cake.

The End.

* * *

><p>AN: Well, this is the end of this journey. Thanks to everyone who has followed along.<p>

The Bellagio really does host weddings in its courtyard or on the Terazzo overlooking the fountain and manmade lake. The package includes a fountain song (yes, the fountain 'sings'), but I don't know if you can get an Elvis impersonator to officiate. I figured Les could pull it off, as well as make sure that 'Love me Tender' was playing.

PS. How did Les know what Steph would like in a wedding? I imagined that Ranger would send a follow up text to Les that read something like: 'Steph wants cake, an Elvis impersonator and Love me Tender. Under no circumstances is Helen Plum to harass Babe, but get Hector to set up video conference link for ceremony'. Les and Tank handled the rest.


End file.
